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THE STORY OF 



THE DIAMOND NECKLACE 

K T 9" 

TOLD IN DETAIL FOR THE FIRST TIME C ' / A 



BY THE AID OF CONTEMPORARY MEMOIRS, ORIGINAL 
LETTERS, AND OFFICIAL AND OTHER DOCUMENTS.; 

AND COMPRISTNO 

A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OP THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE, PRETENDED CONFIDANT 

OP MARIE- ANTOINETTE, WITH PARTICULARS 

OP THE CAREERS OF THE OTHER ACTORS IN THIS REMARKABLE DRAMA. 



By henry VIZETELLY, 

Author of "Berlin Under the New Empjre," etc. 



Illustrated with an exact representation of the Diamond Necklace, from a" contemporary 
drawing, and a portrait of the Countess de la Motte, engraved on steel. 



^hirii (^hxixon, 'gahwtlb. 




NEW YORK: 
SCRIBNER AND WELFORD. 

1881. 



.15 



S. Cowan &* Co., Strafhmore Press, Pef'th. 



By transfw 

DlC 6 1915 



^ 

r 

r 



s\ 

4 



TO A. E. V. 

THE LIGHT OF MY HOME, THE HAPPINESS OF MY LIFE, 

I DEDICATE, 

WITH MUCH AFFECTION, 

THIS RECORD OF AN ERRING WOMAN'S CAREER. 

H. V. 

Paris, 1867. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



" The Story of the Diamond Necklace," which met with marked 
success at the time of its first appearance — two editions in an 
expensive form having speedily become exhausted — has been out 
of print for some years. The author was unwilling that it should 
be re-issued until it had been subjected to a complete revision, and 
this more pressing occupations have obliged him continually to 
postpone. Having at length found the necessary leisure, he has 
thoroughly revised the work, availing himself of a new study of 
the documents preserved in the French National Archives for this 
purpose, and incorporating in the present volume such additional 
facts relative to his subject as the investigations of recent years 
have brought to light. If the work in its new form meets with 
anything like the favour which was accorded to the early editions, 
the author will feel himself amply rewarded for the extra labour he 
has expended in rendering it more complete. 

LoNDOK, October, 1880. 



Several critics of the first edition of this work took the author to task fox 
regarding as genuine the autograph letters of Marie- Antoinette and others, 
comprised in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches, and expressed their 
surprise at his ignorance of the controversy which had taken place on the 
subject of their authenticity, and had resulted, they said, in the almost 
universal condemnation of these documents by both French and German 
critics. The author was not only fully acquainted with all the details of 
the controversy in question, but he had carefully examined the letters 
themselves — not their contents merely, but the character of the hand- 
writing, and had studied its variations at different periods of Marie- Antoi- 
nette's career ; and he had come to the conclusion, in common with the 
majority of French writers who are regarded as authorities on matters per- 
taining to the history of France during the latter half of the eighteenth 
century, that the impugned documents are, with certain exceptions, perfectly 
genuine. The above remarks, it should be noted, apply exclusively to the 
autograph letters in M. Feuillet de Conches' collection, and not to the 
exceedingly dubious letters published by Comte d'Hunolstein. 



PEEFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 



The great scandal of the Diamond Necklace, which to the clear 
vision of Goethe presaged the coming Revolution, and in which the 
quick-witted Talleyrand saw the overthrow of the French throne, 
possesses an interest akin to that of the French Revolution itself. 
The story is one of which the world does not seem to tire, for it has 
been told scores upon scores of times, and more or less recently, by 
historians, biographers, essayists, memoir-writers, anecdotists. 
novelists, and dramatists, and in well-nigh every European lan- 
guage. In the form in which it appears in the Memorials and 
Judicial Examinations of the parties accused of complicity in the 
fraud, it has been pronounced " the greatest lie of the eighteenth 
century," and numerous active brains have essayed to unravel its 
tangled web of truth and falsehood ; nevertheless, there are many 
persons who still think that a certain mystery envelops the trans- 
action which all the research hitherto bestowed upon it has failed 
to satisfactorily clear up. 

The writer of the present work has diligently studied all the con 
temporary evidence, bearing in the smallest degree on the subject, 
which an active search enabled him to discover, and the bulk of 
which he has availed himself of in the course of the subjoined 
narrative. This includes, for example, unpublished autograph 
letters and documents, written either by actual actors in the drama, 
or else by persons intimately associated with it, and derived chiefly 
from the valuable collection of M. Feuillet de Conches ; the official 
records of the judicial proceedings to which the affair give rise ; 
the various memorials put forth on behalf of the accused, and 
the memoirs subsequently issued by them, including the ex- 
ceedingly scarce M^moire by Retaux de Villette, which the 
present writer is the first to quote from, and the curious Auto- 



Vlll PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 

biography written in his old age by Count de la Motte; the 
discussions in the Paris Parliament ; and the numerous memoirs 
penned by persons living at the time, some of which, and these of 
the highest importance — such as the interesting Memoirs of Count 
Beugnot — having been only recently made public, were not at the 
command of previous writers. In addition to the foregoing sources 
of. information maybe mentioned the different biographies, and the 
various critical disquisitions of historians and essayists in which the 
subject has been so exceedingly fruitful, and of which considerable 
use will be found to have been made. 

With such materials at his command, the writer has been able 
to tell the story for the first time in all its fulness, and as he be- 
lieves more in accordance with the truth, in small matters as well 
as great, than any previous narrative of the transaction. He con- 
ceives that he has completely exonerated the French queen from 
the slightest suspicion of complicity in the miserable fraud. He 
has made a point of supplying missing dates to the more trivial as 
well as to all the more important incidents, of vouching every 
statement of the smallest consequence, and of giving the very 
language of the witnesses to the various facts which they are called 
upon to prove. He has, moreover, visited most of the scenes with 
which the chief incidents of the story are mixed up, and has 
described them with more or less minuteness in the course of his 
narrative. 

It is proper to mention, with regard to some few of the author- 
ities referrred to in the following pages, such as Madame Campan's 
and Weber's " Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," Madame de la Motte's 
" Memoires Justificatifs," and the " Memoire pour le Comte de 
Cagliostro," that the French and English versions of these works 
have been indiscriminately used, and that the references given, if 
they do not apply to the one, will be found to belong to the other 
edition of the works in question. 



AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK. 



M^moire des joailliers Bohmer et Bassenge, du 12 Aotit, 1785. Paris, 1786. 



Me'moire pour Louis-Rend-Edouard de Rohan, cardinal, contre M. le Pro- 

cureur-Gr^n^ral, en presence de la dame de la Motte. Paris, 1786. 
Pieces justificatives pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, declarations authen- 

tiques selon la forme Anglaise. Paris, 1786. 
Requite au Parlement, les chambres assemblies, par M. le Cardinal de 

Rohan. Paris, 1786. 
Reflexions rapides pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, sur le sommaire de la 

dame de la Motte. Paris, 1786. 



Memoire pour la dame Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, epouse du Comte 

de la Motte. Paris, 1786. 
R^ponse pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte au M^moire du Comte Cagli- 

ostro. Paris, 1786. 
Sommaire pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte accusee, contre M. le Pro- 

cureur-Gen^ral, accusateur, en presence de M. le Cardinal de Rohan et 

autres co-accusds. Paris, 1786. 
Memoires justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte, Merits par elle-meme. 

London, 1789. 
Ditto, English translation. 



Mdmoire pour la demoiselle le Guay d'Oliva, fille m neure, dmancipee d'^e, 
accusee, contre M. le Procureur- General. Paris, 1786. 

Seconde mdmoire et pieces justificatives, pour Mademoiselle le Guay d'Oliva. 
Paris, 1786. 



Requite pour le sieur Marc-Antoine Retaux de Villette, ancien gendarme, 
accuse, contre M. le Procureur-General. Paris, 1786. 

Memoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro, accuse, contre M. le Procureur- 
General, accusateur, en presence de M. le Cardinal de Rohan, de la 
Comtesse de la Motte et autres, co-accusds. Paris, 1786. 



X AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK. 

Requite au Parlement, les chambres assemblies, pour le Comte de Cagliostro, 
signifi6e k M. le Procureur-G6n6ral, le 24 F^vrier, 1786. Paris, 1786. 

M^moire pour le Comte de Cagliostro contra Maitre Chesnon fila et le Sieur 
de Launay. Paris, 1786. 

Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro. London, 1786. 



M^moire pour Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d'Etienville, bourgeois de 

Saint-Omer en Artois. Paris, 1786. 
Deuxifeme M6moire pour le sieur Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d'Etien- 
ville. Paris, 1786. 
Collection complete de tous les M^moires qui ont paru dans la fameuse 

aflfaire du Collier, avec toutes les pieces secretes qui y ont rapport et qui 

n'ont pas paru. Paris, 1786. 
Compte-rendu de ce qui s'est passd au Parlement relativement k I'afFaire de 

M. le Cardinal de Rohan. Paris, 1786. 
Jugement rendu par le Parlement de Paris sur I'affaire du Collier de 

diamants, avec le detail de ce qui s'est pass6 aux stances du Parlement 

les 30 et 31 Mai, 1786, et les ordres du Roi apr6s le jugement. Paris, 

1786. 
Archives de la R^publique. Series X 2, N"os. 2576, 18576. Series Y, Nos. 

11514, 12076, 13125. Proc6s du Collier. 
Unpublished autograph letters and documents relative to the Diamond 

Necklace affair, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 



The Life of Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, heretofore Countess de la 

Motte, written by herself. 2 vols. London, 1791. 
Authentic adventures of the Countess de la Motte. London, 1787. 
M^moires In^dits du Comte de la Motte- Valois, publics d'apr^s le manu- 

scrit autographe, par L. Lacour. Paris, 1858. 
M^moire historique des intrigues de la Cour et de ce qui s'est pass6 entre la 

Reine, le Comte d' Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, Madame de Polignac, 

Madame de la Motte, Cagliostro, et MM. de Breteuil et de Vergennes, 

par R<$taux de Villette. Venise, 1790. 
M^moires pour servir k I'histoire des 6v6nements de la fin du XVIII^ si^cle, 

par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. Paris. 
Marie-Antoinette et le proems du Collier d'aprfes la procedure instruite 

devant le Parlement de Paris, par E. Campardon, archiviste des archives 

de I'Empire. Paris, 1863. 
M6moires suft la vie priv^e de Marie-Antoinette, par Madame Campan. 

2 vols. London, 182.3. 
Ditto, English translation. 
M^moires concernant Marie- Antoinette, Beine de France, par J. Weber. 

2 vols. London, 1805. 
Ditto, English translation. 



AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK. XI 

Histoire de Marie- Antoinette, par E. et J. de Goncourt. Paris, 1863. 
La Vraie Marie- Antoinette, par M. de Lescure. Paris, 1863. 
Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette, von A. Ritter von Arneth. Paris 

und Wien, 1865. 
Lettres et documents in^dits de Louis XVL, Marie- Antoinette, et Madame 

Elisabeth, par M, Feuillet de Conches, 3 vols. Paris, 1864. 
Correspondance inddite de Marie- Antoinette, par le Comte P. Vogt d'Hunol- 

stein. Paris, 1864. 
Proems de Marie- Antoinette, ci-devant Reine des Fran9ais. Paris, 1865. 
Correspondance secrete in^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette, la cour 

et la ville, de 1777 ^ 1792, publiee d'apr6s les manuscrits de la Biblioth6- 

que Impdriale de Saint-P6tersbourg, par M. de Lescure, 2 vols. Paris, 

1866. 
Les derniers jours de Trianon, par M. Capefigue. Paris, 1866. 
M^moires du Comte Beugnot, ancien ministre, vol. i. Paris, 1866. 
M^moires de Mademoiselle Bertin. Paris. 
M^moires de M. le Baron de Besenval, Merits par lui-m^me, vol. iii. Paris, 

1805. 
M^moires de la Baronne d'Oberkirche, vol. i. Paris, 1853, 
M6moires posthumes du Feld-Marechal Comte de Stedingk, par le Comte 

de Bjornsjerna, vol. iii. Paris, 1844. 
Souvenirs de la Marquise de Crdqui, par le Comte de Courchamps. Paris, 

1834-5. 
M^moires relatifs k la Famille Royale de France, pendant la Revolution 

accompagnds d'anecdotes inconnues et authentiques sur les princes con- 

temporains et autres personnages c6l6bres de cette ^poque. Publics 

pour la premiere fois d'aprfes le journal, les lettres, et les entretiens de la 

Princesse de Lamballe, par une dame de quality attache au service con- 

fidentiel de cette infortunde princesse, vol. i. Paris et Strasbourg 1826. 
La Princesse de Lamballe, Marie-Tli6r6se-Louise de Savoie-Carignan : Sa 

Vie — Sa Mort ; d'apres des documents in edits ou peu connus, par M. de 

Lescure. Paris, 1864. 
Memoires secrets pour servir k I'histoire de la derni^re ann^e du rfegne de 

Louis XVL, par A. F. Bertrand de MoUeville, ministre d'etat k cette 

epoque, vol. ii. Londres et Paris, 1797. 
Memoires historiques et politiques du r^gne de Louis XVI., par I'Abbe 

Soulavie, vol. vi. Paris, 1801. 
Histoire de la decadence de la monarchic Fran9aise, par I'Abbe Soulavie, 

vol. iii. Paris, 1803. 
Anecdotes du r^gne de Louis XVL, contenant tout ce qui concerne ce 

monarque, sa famille, et la Reine, etc., par M. Nougaret, vol. i. Paris, 

1791. 
Correspondance secrete de la cour de Louis XVI. Paris. 
L'Histoire de France pendant le XVIIP si6cle, par C. Lacretelle, vol. vi. 

Paris, 1819. 



ill AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK. 

Louis XVI., par M. Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. Paris, 1851. 

Louis XVL , son administration et ses relations diplomatiques avec I'Europe, 

par M. Capefigue, vol. iii. Paris, 1844. 
Correspondance in^dite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de Bouf- 

flers, de 1778 k 1788. Paris, 1875. 
The Journals and Correspondence of William, Lord Auckland, vol. i. 

London, 1860-2. 
Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 k 1833, 

vol. ii. Paris, 1839. 
Cagliostro's Stammbaum, von Wolfgang von Goethe. 
M^moires sur les prisons de Paris sous Robespierre, vol. ii. Paris. 
Les Crimes de Marat et des autres ^gorgeurs, ou Ma Resurrection, par P. 

A. L. Maton de la Varenne. Paris, 1795. 
Histoire de la Revolution Fran9aise, par M. Louis Blanc, vol. ii. Briixelles. 
The French Revolution, a history ; by Thomas Carlyle. 3 vols. (Leipzig 

edition), 1851. 
Histoire monarchique et constitutionnelle de la Revolution Franfaise, par 

Eug6ne Labaume, vol. ii. Paris, 1834. 
Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, by Thomas Carlyle, vol. iv. (Art. — Diar 

mond Necklace). London, 1857. 
Biographie Universelle (Articles — De Rohan and Cagliostro). 
Le Moniteur, No. 220. Paris, 1792. 
Morning Chronicle, Dec. 29, 1786. 
Journal de Paris, Nov. 12, 1831. 
Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ixi. London, 1791.' 
Julie philosophe, ou le bon patriote, vol. ii. London. 
Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube, par L. Chevalier. Bar-sur-Aube, 1851. 
Essais historiques surla-valle de Bar-sur-Aube, publics d'apr6s unmanuscrit 

inedit portant la date de 1785, par J. F. G. Troyes, 1838. 
Letter from the Cure of Bar-sur-Aube, July 17, 1866. 
Saveme et ses environs, par C. G. Klein. Strasbourg, 1849. 
Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles, par J. A. Le Roi. Versailles, 

1854. 
Histoire du Bois de Boulogne, par J. Lobet. Paris, 1856. 
Paris Herself Again, by G. A. Sala. London, 1879. 



CONTENTS. 



CHIP. *^*"« 

I. A SCION OF ROYALTY IN" TATTERS — "TAKE PITY ON THE 

ORPHAN DESCENDANTS OF HENRY II. KING OF FRANCE " 1 

II. THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS — ^A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL 3 

III. MANTUA-MAKER'S apprentice — ^PENSIONER UNDER THE 

CROWN — BOARDER IN A CONVENT ... ... ... 7 

IV. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD ... 13 
V. AT BAR-SUR-AUBE — COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE ... ... 19 

VI. COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE — IN BARRACKS AT LUNEVILLE — ON A 

FIFTH FLOOR IN PARIS — ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER 30 

VII. OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES — SENDS OUT 
BEGGING LETTERS AND PETITIONS — ^FAINTS IN MADAME'S 
SALLE d'ATTENTE — DESPAIR ... ... ... 40 

VIII. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN — STILL NOT SOLD ... 52 

IX. SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN — ^AT VERSAILLES 

AND LITTLE TRIANON ... ... ... ••. 56 



65 



X. HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, 

PRINCE-BISHOP LOUIS-RENE-EDOUARD DE ROHAN 
XI. PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE 
QUEEN — ^A FORGER ON THE PREMISES —BILLETS-DOUX BOR- 
DERED WITH * ' VIGNETTES BLEUES " . . . ... ... 72 

XII. THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN ... ... ... ... 79 

XIII. THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW — " YOU KNOW WHAT THIS 
means" ... 



85 



XIV. A GOLDEN HARVEST — HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF — BARONESS 

d'OLIVA IS GIVEN THE COLD SHOULDER ... ... 89 



Xiv CONTENTS, 

OHAP. PAGE 

XV, GRAND DOINGS AT BAB-SUR-AUBB ... ... ... 96 

XVI. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS SOLD AT LAST ... ... 105 

XVII. CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO ... ... ... 115 

XVni. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS DELIVERED ... ... 126 

XIX. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE VANISHES ! ... ... ... 131 

XX. THE DIAMONDS ARE DISPERSED — COUNT DE LA MOTTE GOES 

TO ENGLAND ON BUSINESS ... ... ... ... 138 

XXI. THE GATHERING OF THE STORM ... ... ... 153 

XXII. TWELVE days' STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE ... ... 162 

XXIII. LETTRES-DE-CACHET IN THE (EIL-DE-B(EUF — IN THE ^UE 

SAINT-CLAUDE — ^AND AT BAR-SUR-AUBE ... ... 170 

XXrV. A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT's DRIVE — THE BASTILLE — ^A 

" VALOIS " SERVED OFF PEWTER ... ... ... 182 

XXV. EFFECT PRODUCED ON THE PUBLIC MIND BY THESE ARRESTS 

— THE ENEMIES OF THE QUEEN ... ... ... 189 

XXVI. LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEN's SOCIETY THERE ... 195 

XXVri. CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN — HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST 

THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN ... ... ... ... 208 

XXVIII. PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL — CAPTURE OF THE COUNTER- 
FEIT QUEEN ... ... ... ... ... 213 

XXIX. THE TRIAL : EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED ... ... 220 

XXX. THE TRIAL : THE CONFRONTATIONS OF THE ACCUSED WITH 

EACH OTHER AND WITH THE WITNESSES ... ... 233 

XXXI. ARREST OF THE FORGER VILLETTE — HIS EXAMINATIONS AND 

CONFRONTATIONS ... ... ... ... ... 241 

XXXII. THE CONCIERGERIE — BEFORE THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT, 

GRAND CHAMBER, AND "TOURNELLE " ... ... 253 

XXXIII. DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT — THE SENTENCES ... 265 

XXXIV. THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT — "WHAT IS RESERVED FOR 

THE BLOOD OF THE BOURBONS ? " ... ... ... 274 

XXXV. COUNT DE LA MOTTE'S FLIGHT — COLD STEEL AND POISON ... 284 

XXXVI. THE SALTPkTRIERE — TRUCKLE BED AND PRISON FARE — THE 

COUNT THREATENS THE FRENCH COURT ... ... 290 

XXXVII. MYSTERIOUS HINTS GIVEN TO THE COUNTESS TO EFFECT HER 

ESCAPE — SHE RESOLVES ON ATTEMPTING IT ... ... 298 

XXXVIII. THE countess's ESCAPE — A LAST VISIT TO THE NEIGHBOUR- 
HOOD OF BAR-SUR-AUBE ... ... ... ... 305 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAP. PAOK 

XXXIX. IN LONDON — THE COITNTESS GIVES UP FORGERT AND TAKES 

TO CALUMNY ... ... ... ... ... 314 

XL. THE COUNT HAWKS THE LIBELS ABROAD— IS IMPRISONED IN 
LA FORCE AND THE CONCIERGERIE — THE LAST OF THE DE 
LA MOTTE LIBELS ... ... ... ... 324 

XLI. RETRIBUTION — ^THE CRIMINAL AND HER ACCOMPLICES ... 336 

XLII. DUPE AND VICTIM ... ... ... ... ... 348 

XLIII. " NESTOR DE LA MOTTE " — ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER 

PROSPERS — GREEN OLD AGE ... ... ... 356 

XLIV. THE CROWN-JEWELLERS — THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE 

— HISTORY AGAIN REPEATS ITSELF... ... ... 368 

XLV . SUMMING UP OF THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE 372 

APPENDIX. DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE ... 387 

SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS PRETENDED TO HA VE PASSED 

BETWEEN THE QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN ... 390 

EPITOME OF THE FIRST PROCES-VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE OF 

THE DOCUMENTS TENDING TO ESTABLISH CRIMINALITY 395 

SOME SATIRICAL VERSES TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR 

GAVE RISE ... ... ... ... ... 402 

MEMORIAL CONCERNING THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DE 

VALOIS ... ... ... ... ... ... 405 

ABSTRACT OF THE DECLARATION MADE BY BETTE d'h'tIEN- 

VILLE IN THE NECKLACE AFFAIR ... ... ... 409 



"Though the descendant of a king, I have been a beggar, a servant, a 

mantua-maker's apprentice, and the favourite of royalty The 

names of a great queen and of a prince-cardinal unhappily united with mine 
have spread a blaze around it to attract general notice ; and as if I was 
doomed to be the victim of painful splendour, the ingenuity of my enemies 
have found means to forge the chains of my dishonour out of a Diamond 
Necklace." — "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 267, 
and p. 6 of Preface. 

"Faites attention k ce miserable Collier, je ne serais nuUement surpris 
qu'il renvers^t le tr6ne. " — Talleyrand to Chamfort. ' ' Histoire Monarchique 
et Constitutionnelle de la Revolution Franpaise," par E. Labaume, vol. ii 
p. 139. 

**I would caution them to despise those who, hacknied in systematic 
scandal, feast upon the bleeding reputations of their sisters mangled and 
torn by calumny ; let them demand of those who convey such vile insinua- 
tions some proof of the circumstances which they relate ; let them sift 
them thoroughly to the bottom ; let them inquire the character of the tale- 
bearer; let them ash how, where, and lohen, and '■whether she knows the woman 
whom she has so eagerly attempted to disgrace.*' — "Life of the Countess de la 
Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 410. 

** Do not the critics teach us : *Li whatsoever thing thou hast thyself 
felt interest, in that or in nothing hope to inspire others with interest. ' In 
partial obedience to all which and to many other principles shall the follow- 
ing small Romance of the Diamond Necklace begin to come together. A 
small Romance let the reader again and again assure himself, which is no 
brain-web of mine, or of any other foolish man's, but a fraction of the mystic 
* spirit- woven web ' from the 'Loom of Time.' It is an actual Transaction 
that happened in this Earth of ours. Wherewith our whole business is 
to paint it truly." — " Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. 
iv. p. 5, 




THE STORY OF 



THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



I. 

1764. 

A SCION OP ROYALTY IN TATTERS. — " TAKE PITY ON THE ORPHAN 
DESCENDANTS OF HENRY II., KING OP FRANCE." 

Rather more than a century ago, in the year 1764, just as death 
had closed the career of the once all-powerful Madame de Pompa- 
dour, who had long since exhausted all her arts in vain endeavours 
to revive the jaded passions of her royal lover, and when the star 
of the notorious Dubarry was gaining the ascendant, the Marquis 
and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers, attended by servants and out- 
riders in the gayest of liveries, were driving one day in a carriage and 
four from their hotel at Paris to the chateau of Passy, of which 
pleasant river-side village the marquis was seigneur. All at once 
their attention was attracted to a little girl about eight years of 
age, clad in the beggar's accustomed livery — rags and tatters, 
who, carrying a younger sister on her back, ran beside the carriage, 
at that moment proceeding up the hill at a slow pace, and appealed 
for charity after the following strange fashion : — " Kind lady and 
gentleman, pray take pity on two poor orphans descended from 
Henry the Second of Valois, King of France," 



2 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

The marchioness, struck by the singularity of this appeal, stopped 
the carriage and commenced questioning the child, much to the 
annoyance of her parsimonious hii;»band, who petulantly remarked 
she ought to know well enough that it was a common trick of 
poverty to forge lies to excite compassion. The marchioness, how- 
ever, persisted in her inquiries, and ascertained from the child 
whereabouts she lived, then, after promising to see into the truth 
of her statement and telling a servant to give her a few pieces 
of silver, the lady, greatly to the satisfaction of her impatient 
husband, gave directions for the carriage to proceed. 

The next day, in accordance with her promise, the marchioness 
despatched a trusty servant to the place where the children lodged, 
at the adjacent village of Chaillot, facing the river between Passy 
and the then fashionable Cours la Reine, where the commonality 
— in other words, those who wore " frieze, woollen stockings and 
cloth hoods" — were forbidden to show themselves. At Chaillot 
the people of the house, and the neighbours generally, confirmed, 
so far as they were able, the truth of the little beggar girl's story, 
which, as this partakes largely of the romantic, and exercised 
moreover an important influence on our heroine's subsequent re- 
markable career, we propose recounting here in all the necessary 
detail. 



HENEI DE SAINT-REMI, 



II. 

1717-1764. 

THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS. — A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL. 

For a couple of centuries there had resided at Bar-sur-Aube, in 
the Champagne, certain Barons de Saint-Remi, the first of whom 
was Henri de Saint-Remi, an illegitimate son of Henri II. of 
Valois, King of France, lover of the beautiful Diana of Poitiers ; 
the same who had the ill luck to be accidentally killed at a til ting- 
match by a lance thrust in his right eye from the captain of his 
Scottish guards, the Count de Montgomerie, ancestor of our Earls 
of Eglinton. This son of his, Henri de Saint-Remi, was, in heralds' 
language, " High and Puissant Lord and Knight, Baron and 
Seigneur of the Manors of the Chatellier, Fontette, Noez and 
Beauvoir, Knight of the King's Order, Gentleman of the Bed- 
chamber in ordinary, Colonel of a regiment of horse and a regiment 
of foot, and Governor of Chateau-Villain." In the course of a few 
generations, however, the Saint-Remis appear to have fallen from 
their high estate, and their broad manors to have become entirely 
alienated from them, inasmuch as we find that Nicolas de Saint- 
Remi, the great-grandson of the Henri before mentioned, instead 
of being styled " High and Puissant Lord and Knight," and 
Seigneur of various extensive domains, and the holder of numerous 
offices about the person of the sovereign, was merely one of the 
king's body-guard in the Duke de Charost's company. He married 
the daughter of Nicolas-Frangois de Vienne, a great man in the 
royal bailiwick of Bar-sur-Aube, who seems at this period to have 
been the possessor of two of the Saint-Remi manors, namely, Noez 
and Fontette. The children that sprung from this marriage were 
two sons, the elder of whom was slain in battle, while the younger, 
Jacques de Saint-Remi, was father of the little beggar girl whom 
we found running beside the Boulainvilliers' carriage asking alms. 



4. THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, in spite of his illustrious de- 
scent, seems to have gradually sunk to the level of the peasant 
class, and the indigence to which he found himself reduced was 
aggravated by his imprudently marrying a young girl with a 
pretty face, but of vulgar manners and somewhat loose morals, the 
daughter of his concierge at the time he had a house to shelter 
him. The offspring of this union was a son and two daughters, born 
respectively in the years 1755, 6, and 7, but small as his family was, 
Jacques de Saint-Remi seems to have been unable to support it. 
One who knew him well describes the last of the barons of Saint- 
Kemi as a man of athletic build, who lived partly by poaching and 
by depredations in the adjoining forest, partly by plundering his 
neighbours' fields, and partly on the charity of the benevolent.^ 
The vast estates which formerly belonged to the now impoverished 
family had gradually dwindled away, some having been sold to 
meet the demands arising from the extravagance of successive 
owners, while others had passed into the hands of lawyers and 
money-lenders. At this period there nevertheless remained three 
domains of considerable extent, deeply encumbered, it is true, with 
debts, but still open to some real or fancied claim, which, although 
the beggared heir of the house of Yalois had no means of enforcing 
it, was nevertheless the reverie and abstraction of his life. A few 
sheets of musty parchment, the sui*viving title-deeds of his house, 
the last wreck, so to speak, of the vast landed property of the 
Saint-Remis of Valois, were kept by him carefully stowed away 
under the straw thatch of his miserable hut. To pore at times 
over these old parchments was the one act of worldly vanity in 
which Jacques de Saint-Remi permitted himself to indulge, but the 
woman he had married was not so easily satisfied. The continual 
display of these mysterious documents kindled her ambition, until 
at length it was raised to such a pitch, that she prevailed on her 
husband to set out for Paris, there to endeavour to make interest 
among the great for the restoration of those rights to which as 
heir of the house of Valois she conceived him to be entitled. 

After disposing of such few movables as they possessed, the 
wretched family set forth and literally tramped up to the capital, 

* ''MemoiresduComteBeugnot, ancien Ministre, " (Paris, 1866,) vol i. p. 7. 



THE YOUNG SAINT-REMIS FORCED TO BEG. 

a distance of nearly a hundred and fifty miles.- That they might 
not be burthened on the way by their youngest child, then about 
three years old, the unnatural parents left it behind them, exposed 
on a window-sill of the house of one Durand, "a wealthy and 
avaricious farmer," to quote the eldest sister's own words, " who, 
being in possession of a great part of my father's estate, and having 
stood sponsor to this unfortunate infant, was therefore deemed the 
most proper person to be her future protector."^ 

On their arrival in Paris, in a state of extreme destitution, the 
Saint-Remi family shifted their place of residence from one suburb 
to another until they eventually settled down at Boulogne, then 
merely a small village on the banks of the Seine, opposite to St. 
Cloud. Here they lived upon such charity as the gentry of the 
neighbourhood, attracted by the singularity of their story, from 
time to time bestowed upon them. The father at this period had 
fallen into a stage of dotage, and the mother's pet idea of an appeal 
in high quarters for the restoration of the family estates had to be 
sacrificed to the powerful struggle which they were forced to make 
for their daily bread. Months thus passed away, until one day 
Jacques de Saint-Remi, for some cause or other— most likely an 
unpaid baker's bill — was arrested by an officer of the marshalsea 
(mounted police) of Boulogne, and locked up in a loathsome cell, 
where he remained for six weeks. Here the poor man contracted 
a serious illness, and on his release, which was brought about by 
the intervention of the cure of the parish, the only retreat which 
the efforts of his neighbours, for friends he had none, were enabled 
to provide for him— a descendant of the blood-royal of France- 
was a pallet in one of the wards of the Hotel Dieu. Here he died, 
a couple of days afterwards, on the 16th February, 1762. 

Within a few days of the death of -Jacques de Saint-Remi his 
wife gave birth to another daughter, and as soon as she was re- 
covered from her confinement, the family removed to Versailles, 
where the mother made a practice of sending the children into the 
streets to beg. Jeanne, the eldest daughter, and the heroine of 
our story, appears to have been treated with great harshness by 
her mother ; for unless the child brought home ten sous on ordi- 

' "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself, "(London, 1791,) vol. i. p. 7. 



6 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

naiy days, and double that amount on Sundays and fete days, as 
tlie fruits of her mendicity, she was subjected, she tells us, to the 
cruellest punishment. The mother had at this time formed a dis- 
reputable connection with a disbanded common soldier — one Jean- 
Baptiste Eaymond, a native of Sardinia — with whom mendicancy 
was a positive passion ; for, in disregard of the authorities, he 
made it his daily practice to beg in the most public places of 
Paris, having with him the young Jacques de Saint-Remi, and the 
family documents, which he boldly exhibited to the passers-by in 
support of a pretended claim which he himself set up to the 
honours of the house of Yalois. Jean-Baptiste was arrested by the 
police time after time, for plying his nefarious trade with such 
marked audacity, and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. 
He was, however, incorrigible, and the authorities at last deter- 
mined upon getting rid of him. After sending him to prison for a 
further term of fifteen days, they ordered him to be exposed for 
four-and-twenty hours in the Place de Louis Quinze — subsequently 
the Place de la Revolution, where for two years the guillotine did 
its bloody work, and now the handsome Place de la Concorde — 
with an inscription setting forth the nature of his imposture, and 
copies of the titles he had falsely assumed hung round his neck. 
This public exhibition at an end, Jean-Baptiste Eaymond was 
banished for five years from the capital. 

When the day arrived for his departure, the unnatural mother 
of the young Saint-Bemis set out with her paramour, leaving be- 
hind her three children, whom she promised to rejoin in eight days 
at the very outside, to shift for themselves. Five weeks, however, 
elapsed without any tidings of her, and it was at this particular 
moment that the poor children, deserted by their only remaining 
protector, and reduced almost to a state of starvation, had the 
good fortune to attract the notice of the kind-hearted Marchioness 
de Boulainvilliers. 



JEANNE AND HER SISTER SENT TO SCHOOL. 



III. 

1764-1779. 

MANTUA-MAKER's APPRENTICE, — -PENSIONER UNDER THE CROWN. — 
BOARDER IN A CONVENT. 

The Boulainvilliers' lacquej, satisfied with tlie inquiries he had 
made, directed the children to take leave of those kind neighbours 
who had so constantly befriended them, and afterwards to come on 
to Passy, where they were to inquire for the chateau, which stood, 
by-the-way, on the precise spot where the pleasant " Hameau de 
Boulainvilliers " now stands. But few preparations being necessary 
for their departure, they were soon on their road, and reached the 
chateau in the course of the afternoon. Their arrival being 
announced, they were conducted " into a grand hall, in the centre 
of which rose a magnificent staircase richly ornamented with gold, 
where a large company of ladies and gentlemen were waiting to 
view them."^ The marchioness descending to the middle of the 
staircase, asked young Jeanne whether she remembered her 
again, an inquiry which it is almost needless to say the child 
promptly answered in the affirmative. 

The company having gratified their curiosity at a distance, for 
no one dared venture into too close proximity with these wretched 
outcasts, covered as they were with rags and dirt, the marchioness 
gave orders for them to be cleansed, and for other clothes to be 
supplied them. A good scrubbing having brought to light indica- 
tions of various diseases, the usual concomitants of poverty, steps 
were taken for their speedy eradication; and in the course of a few 
weeks, thanks to the attention the children received, and to the 
generous food provided them, all traces of their former wretched 
condition were effaced. 

The marchioness's naxt care was the education of the young 

' " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 41. 



8 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

orphans, and Jeanne and her sister were sent to a boarding-school 
in the neighbonrhood, where they made rapid progress. In less 
than two years, however, the youngest girl died of the small-pox, 
at that time a disease not only very prevalent, but commonly 
fatal. Jeanne remained at school for several years longer ; but 
during the latter period of her stay, her governess, she tells us, 
unknown to the marchioness (whom the young Saint-Remi saw but 
rarely), compelled her to perform the common offices of a domestic 
servant. "This employment," she observes, "against which it 
was useless to remonstrate, was but ill adapted to those elevated 
notions which reflections on my birth had inspired me with. Was 
it not," she asks, " painful to feel that, descended as I was from 
the first family in France, I was yet reduced to be a servant to 
people of the very lowest rank, nay, even to servants themselves?"^ 

At length, at her own request, Jeanne was removed from school, 
but the marquis, who was half a Jew — his mother being a daughter 
of Samuel Bernard, the rich Hebrew banker, whom even the 
" Grand Monarque " would condescend to take by the arm when he 
was hard up and wanted to coax a loan out of him, and whom the 
court ladies used to cheat at the queen's card-table — objected to 
her continuing a pensioner on the Boulainvilliers' establishment. 
"With the view therefore of placing her in a position to provide for 
herself, Jeanne was articled to a Parisian mantua-maker for a term 
of three years. Ill-health, however, compelled her to leave before 
completing the engagement, and she filled one situation after 
another, subject to constant attacks of illness, until at length a 
change in the fortunes of the family made it no longer necessary 
for her to labour for her daily bread. 

The young Jacques de Saint-Remi had received his education 
under the care of M. Leclerc, the husband of his sister Jeanne's 
governess, and on its completion had been sent to sea. About this 
time he returned home from his first voyage, and the marchioness, 
having got together various documents in support of the claim of 
the family to the honours of the house of Valois, consulted with 
the Marquis de Chabert (the admiral under whom the young 
Saint-Remi had recently selrved, and who had interested himself a 

■' " Life of the Countesg de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 47. 



YOUNG JACQUES PEESENTED TO THE KING. 9 

good deal in the young sailor's history) as to the best course to be 
adopted to get this claim recognised at court. The marquis at 
pnce caused a genealogical tree of the family to be drawn up, which 
he transmitted with the necessary confirmatory documents to his 
cousin, M. d'Hozier de Serigny, grand genealogist and judge-at-arms 
of the nobility of France, that the same might receive the sanction 
of his authority.^ 

When this was returned to M. de Chabert, accompanied by a 
certificate of M. d'Hozier's attesting its accuracy, the marquis for- 
warded the various documents to the proper quarter, and in due 
course obtained the appointment of a day for the reception of young 
Saint-Remi by Louis XVL, who had only recently ascended the 
throne. The youth was introduced to the king as the Baron de 
Valois by the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, the Marquis de Chabert, 
the Count do Maurepas, and M. Necker. The king was pleased to 
recognise the title which the friends of the young Jacques de Saint- 
Remi had persuaded him to assume, but desirous, it was believed, 
that this should become extinct in the person of its present 
possessor, recommended the newly-acknowledged Baron de Valois 
to devote himself to the service of the church.^ Jacques respect- 
fully ventured to suggest that his predilections were in favour of 
the army or the navy. The king thanked the young Saint-Remi 
for his inclination to serve him, but recommended him again, still 
more strongly, to dedicate his days to the service of his Maker. 
" Sire," replied the young man, with a sprinkling of blasphemy 
which only a Frenchman would have ventured on, " I am serving 
God when I am serving my king."^ 

The members of the Saint-Remi family had now their several 
titles awarded them. Jacques, as we have already seen, was 
lienceforth to be styled Baron de Valois ; his sister Jeanne was to 
be known as Mademoiselle de Valois; and Marianne, the poor child 
who had been left exposed outside Farmer Durand's window-sill, 
and who was now sent for to Paris, w^as for the future to be called 
Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi. But as "fine words butter no 

^ See Appendix. - 

^ Roman Catholic ecclesiastics not being permitted to marry, the title of 
oourse could not have been transmitted by descent. 
3 " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 87. 



10 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

parsneps," so empty honours will not suffice to keep the pot 
boiling. It was therefore imperative that the necessary steps 
should be taken to procure some sort of provision for these 
destitute off-shoots of the blood-royal of France. It is true the 
national finances were in a most lamentable condition, still every- 
body agreed that something must be done, which something finally 
resolved itself into a pension to each member of the family of 
Valois of eight hundred livres (francs) equivalent to thirty-two 
pounds sterling per annum, commencing from December, 1775. 
In addition to this, through the intervention of M. Necker, the 
young Baron de Valois had a commission in the navy given him, 
with a grant of four thousand livres for his outfit, and shortly 
afterwards received orders to join his ship at Brest. 

We have already mentioned that Jeanne, or, as we must now 
style her. Mademoiselle de Valois, during the period she was toil- 
ing as a mantua-maker's apprentice, was subject to frequent attacks 
of illness. On these occasions it seems an apartment was set apart 
for her at the Hotel de Boulainvilliers ^ where every care was be- 
stowed upon her until she was completely restored to health. 
During the period of her convalescence she was constantly perse- 
cuted by the marquis with attentions the object of which it was 
impossible to mistake. These advances, moreover, were subse- 
quently renewed on every occasion that presented itself ; in fact, 
whenever mademoiselle found herself under the Boulainvilliers' 
roof; and if we can credit her own statement, more than one dar- 
ing assault was made by the old reprobate upon her virtue. To 
rid herself of the marquis's importunities she was forced, she tells 
us, to complain to his wife, who decided upon taking the necessary 
steps to remove mademoiselle beyond the sphere of her husband's 
dangerous influence. She and her sister Marianne were accord- 
ingly sent as boarders to the Abbey of Teres, in the neighbour- 
hood of Montgeron, some dozen miles or so from Paris, on the road 
to Lyons. Here she asserts that for a time she contemplated tak- 
ing the veil, a resolution, however, which, if ever seriously enter- 
tained, was very soon abandoned. 

About this time the Marquis de Boulainvilliers was detected 

' Now the Messageries in the Rue Notre Dame des Victoires. 



MESDEMOISBLLES DE VALOIS QUIT THEIR CONVENT. 11 

defrauding tlie excise by means of an extensive secret distillery 
which he carried on in some vaults beneath his Paris hotel. The 
discovery of this fraud caused, as might be supposed, considerable 
sensation among the haute noblesse, and neither the marquis nor the 
marchioness dared show themselves at court, and hardly even in 
the vicinity of the capital. They decided, therefore, to retire for a 
time to their chateau at Montgeron, no great distance from the 
Abbey of Yeres, and, as a matter of course, the sisters Valois were 
invited to spend the holidays with them. At the chateau they 
would probably have continued to remain had not the marquis re- 
newed his system of persecution. It is, however, tolerably certain 
that something very like encouragement was given to him by 
Mademoiselle de Valois, for the pair were surprised one day in a 
somewhat equivocal situation by the Marquis de Brancas and the 
Abb6 Tacher, and although the lady in her " Memoirs " has the 
effrontery to speak of "the blush of conscious innocence which 
coloured her cheek " on this occasion, the result was that she wias 
packed off by the marchioness to the well-known Abbey of Long- 
champ near Paris — of course, as she says, at her own earnest en- 
treaty. Of this once handsome pile of conventual buildings, all 
that has survived the fury of the revolutionists of 1793, is around 
ivy-mantled tower and an adjacent windmill, both familiar objects 
at the present time in this favourite locality. In the days of St. 
Vincent de Paul, the disorders which reigned in the Abbey of Long- 
champ were such as to call forth severe animadversions from this 
earnest and conscientious priest,^ and even when the sisters Valois 

^ "Never was there a more aristocratic, or, if the chronique scandaleuse 
13 to be believed, a naughtier nunnery than that of Longchamp. It was 
Rabelais' Abbey of Th^lfema, with additions and emendations, and * Fay ce 
que vouldras ' might have been written over the conventual gates. The ex- 
cellent St. Vincent de Paul was in a terrible way about the 'goings-on' among 
these exceptionally vivacious nuns, and in a letter to Card nal Mazarin 
indignantly denounced the irregularities which had become habitual in the 
establishment. The Archbishop of Paris reiponstrated with the naughty 
nuns ; but they snapped their fingers metaphorically in the archiepiscopal 
face, and continued their fandangos. But they were eventually punished 
for their peccadillos. The pious world ceased in disgust to make pilgrim- 
ages to the tomb of Ste. Isabelle de Longchamp, and to deposit rich offerings 
on her shrine. At the beginning of the eighteenth century the convent had 
grown comparatively poor, when, in 1727, a renowned opera- singer, Made- 



12 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

entered it as boarders, the discipline was inclined to be lax ; never- 
theless the marquis made so many morning calls that the other 
boarders were scandalised at his constant visits, and the abbess was 
constrained to give orders that no gentleman should be allowed to 
visit Mademoiselle de Valois on any pretence whatever. At this 
abbey the sisters remained for about a year, only quitting it, say 
they, on the death of the abbess. Other accounts state that they 
left the convent surreptitiously early one morning, carrying with 
them a very light bundle, and with thirty-six francs jingling in their 
pockets, their departure being due to the pertinacity of the abbess 
in pressing them to embrace a religious life, a course to which the 
young ladies, who were by this time sufficiently partial to worldly 
vanities, were by no means inclined.^ The abbess is supposed to 
have received her instructions from high quarters, and it is further 
suggested that the object of them was the gradual extinction of 
the race of the Yalois, together with all their troublesome claims. 

moiselle le Maure, having taken the veil at Longchamp, the happy thought 
occurred to the abbess of giving concerts of sacred music on the three last 
days of Lent. These concerts were a prodigious success. The Parisian 
world, fashionable and frivolous as well as devout, flocked, as fast as their 
coaches-and-six could carry them, to hear the' Longchamp oratorios ; and 
these concerts remained in vogue for nearly fifty years. It came at last to 
the ears of another Archbishop of Paris, Monsigneur Christophe de Beau- 
mont — a prelate celebrated for his enmity to theatrical entertainments, and 
his quarrel with Jean Jacques Rousseau — that the attractions of the choir at 
the Abbey of Longchamp were enhanced by the voices of a number of 
artistes from the opera who had not taken the veil. So the church was closed 
to the public. There was an end of the cause, but tlie effect remained. . 

" Out of the fashionable pilgrimages grew the world-famoiis Promenade de 
Longchamp, which began in the Champs Elys6es, and wound its course right 
athwart the Bois de Boulogne to the gates of the Abbey itself. It was 
found that the setting-in of the spring fashions might be fitly made to coin- 
cide with the eve of Easter ; and every year during three days in Passion- 
week there was an incessant cavalcade of princes, nobles, bankers, fermiers- 
generaux, strangers of distinction, and the ladies then known as rvineuses, 
to Longchamp. It became not a Ladies' Mile, but a Ladies' League. The 
equipages of the grandest dames of the Courb of Versailles locked wheels with 
the chariots of La Duth6 and La Guimard ; and the legends whisper that the 
ruineuses made, as a rule, a much more splendid appearance than the grandes 
dames did." — "Paris Herself Again," by George Augustus Sala, vol. ii. p. 
253, et seq. 

■> " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 9. 



THE NECKLACE DESCRIBED. 13 



IV. 
1773-1778. 

THE DIAMOND NECKLACE : ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD. 

While our heroine was being initiated into the mysteries of 
mantua-making by the most distinguished of Parisian modistes, the 
" chains of her dishonour," as she styles them, were unknown 
to her being forged in the form of a Diamond Necklace, such as 
the world never saw before, and the like of which it can hardly 
hope to look upon again. Here is a description, penned by a 
master-hand, of this regal jewel, this unique gem, long an object of 
desire with queens and women, which caused a nine months' con- 
vulsion of the world of Paris, and the remarkable story connected 
with which was for a time the talk of every city in Europe, while 
the mystery enveloping it is thought by many to be hardly cleared 
up even now. " A row of seventeen glorious diamonds, as large 
almost as filberts, encircle, not too tightly, the neck a first time. 
Looser, gracefully fastened thrice to these, a three-wreathed festoon 
and pendants enough (simple pear-shaped multiple star-shaped or 
clustering amorphous) encircle it, enwreath it a second time. 
Loosest of all, softly flowing round from behind in priceless cate- 
nary, rush down two broad threefold rows; seem to knot themselves, 
round a very queen of diamonds, on the bosom ; then rush on, 
again separated, as if there were length in plenty : the very tassels 
of them were a fortune for some men. And now, lastly, two other 
inexpressible threefold rows, also with their tassels, will, when the 
Necklace is on and clasped, unite themselves behind into a doubly 
inexpressible sixfold row; and so stream down, together or asunder, 
over the hind neck, — we may fancy like lambent zodiacal or 
Aurora-Borealis fire." ^ 

^ See Extract from the Countess's Life on page xvi. of the present volume. 

^Carlyle's "Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 9. See also 
Appendix to the present work for a more minute and technical description 
of the famous Necklace. 



14 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

This matchless jewel had its origin in a freak of Louis XV., the 
** Well-Beloved," as he was endearingly called at the early part of 
his reign, whose infatuation in later years for the notorious Countess 
Dubarry led him into all kinds of extravagance, and caused him to 
dissipate with more than his accustomed recklessness the already 
seriously impaired revenues of the State. We learn from the Abbe 
Soulavie that, during the last sixteen months of the " Well- 
Beloved's " reign, the sum of two million four hundred and fifty 
thousand francs, or nearly one hundred thousand pounds sterling 
— a far larger sum in those days, be it remembered, than at the 
present time — was paid out of the royal exchequer in hard cash 
to this one favourite alone. And to satisfy us that his statement 
is accurate, the abbe furnishes us with his authority, and gives the 
details of the eight several instalments of which the grand total is 
composed.^ This, it should be borne in mind, was entirely in- 
dependent of all manner of royal grants and gifts of places and 
houses and lands, which had been flung, whenever asked for, into 
the lap of this frail beauty. Startling as this example of royal 
prodigality in the days of the decadence of the French monarchy 
may appear, it is nevertheless indisputable that the infatuated 
libertine who then controlled the destinies of France,, by no means 
wanted the will to indulge in still wilder schemes of extravagance. 
For instance, on one occasion, whilst visiting with his architect the 
costly pavilion of Louveciennes, lately erected for Madame Dubarry, 
he expressed his regret that he could not present her with a palace 
constructed entirely of gold and precious stones. Unable to 
realize this extravagant whim, he resolved to bestow upon his mis- 
tress the most costly set of diamonds which could be collected 
throughout Europe. The result was the world-renowned Diamond 
Necklace.^ 

Louis XV. gave the commission to the crown jewellers, Bohmer 
and Bassenge' who entered heart and soul into the undertaking. 

^ " Histoire de la Decadence de la Monarchie Francaise," par I'Abbe 
Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 330. 

'^ " Memoires Historiques et Politiques du regne de Louis XVL" par 
I'Abbe Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 71. 

3 Misspelt ' 'Bassange / ' in all the Memoires both written and printed, and in 
most of the official records of the ' * Affaire du Collier. " Such, however, of the 



THE DIAMONDS THAT COMPOSE THE NECKLACE. 15 

The execution of so rare an order was of course an affair of time. 
Not only had the jewellers to raise funds to enable them to secure the 
largest and finest diamonds that were in the market, but they had 
to hunt out and employ the most skilful lapidaries to fashion them 
to their several shapes. Every important city in Europe, and 
others far more remote, were ransacked to collect these matchless 
gems. Some of the finest were met with in Germany, others in Spain, 
others again in Eussia, a few in Brazil, and a very fine one indeed was 
picked up in the city of Hamburg. " But," says Carlyle, " to tell the 
various histories of these various diamonds, from the first making 
of them, or even omitting all the rest, from the first digging of 
them in far Indian mines .... How they served as eyes of 
heathen idols, and received worship; how they had then by fortune 
of war, or theft, been knocked out, and exchanged among camp- 
sutlers for a little spirituous liquor, and bought by Jews ; and worn 
as signets on the fingers of tawny or white majesties; and again 
been lost, with the fingers too, and perhaps life (as by Charles the 
Eash among the mud ditches of Nancy), in old forgotten glorious 
victories ; and so through innumerable varieties of fortune had 
come at last to the cutting-wheel of Bohmer, to be imited in strange 
fellowship with comrades also blown together from all ends of the 
earth, each with a history of its own. Could these aged stones — • 
the youngest of them six thousand years of age and upwards — but 
have spoken, there were an experience for philosophy to teach by. 

latter, as were signed by the individual in question, are invariably signed 
"Bassenge." There is some doubt as to whether Bohmer and Bassenge 
were crown jewellers at this period. One or two contemporary writers who 
are regarded as authorities say they were ; but the writer of the letters 
published under the title of " Correspondance Secrete Ine'dite sur Louis 
XVI., Marie- Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville," says (vol. i. p. 548) that 
Bohmer was jeweller to Stanislaus, king of Poland, Louis XV. 's. father-in- 
I law, and also to Madame Dubarry, and that it was owing to his holding this 
latter appointment that the order for the Diamond Necklace was confided 
j to him. The same writer asserts that it was not until early in the year 1785, 
I shortly after the perpetration of the Necklace fraud, that Bohmer was ap- 
' pointed, through the instrumentality of Marie- Antoinette, jeweller to the 
French crown. Although Bohmer may not have been officially appointed 
I until this date, it is quite certain he had been employed by the queen almost 
I from the very moment she ascended the throne of France. 



16 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

But now, as was said, by little caps of gold and daintiest rings of 
the same, they are all being, so to speak, enlisted under Bohmer's 
flag, — made to take rank and file in new order, no jewel asking his 
neighbour whence he came ; and parade there for a season. For a 
season only, and then to disperse and enlist anew ad infinitum."^ 

For many of their purchases credit was obtained by the 
crown jewellers for a limited period; for others, when they 
had exhausted their own capital, they were obliged to have 
recourse to their friends. But they were full of confidence, 
for two millions of livres (francs) — eighty thousand pounds 
sterling — was the sum fixed to be paid by the king for this jewel 
beyond price. The w^ork went bravely on at the Bohmer and 
Bassenge establishment, ^^ Au Grand Balcon" Rue Vendome. The 
jewellers, their friends, their working lapidaries, their trustful 
creditors, were all in the highest spirits, when suddenly evil tidings 
cast dismay into the Bohmer and Bassenge camp. One day comes 
the intelligence that the king is ill ; three days afterwards the news 
arrives that he is in danger ; another week brings the report that 
he is dead, and the late favourite for whom the rich ornament was 
destined banished for ever beyond the precincts of the court. 

Alas ! what was to be done now with the magnificent bauble 
commissioned by one who, at the time, spite of all his low grovelling 
debauchery, was nevertheless a king, but is now only so much 
corruption] Bohmer and Bassenge, crown jewellers, find them- 
selves deeply involved ; their creditors become clamorous, for their 
bills as they fall due are returned pi'otested. They have nothing 
to fall back upon but the Diamond Necklace, which is ■\7orth, or at 
any rate valued at, two million livres. But where is a purchaser 
to be found for it 1 Bohmer and Bassenge, crown jewellers though 
they be, must still pay their debts. Kings, according to a certain 
fiction of state, never die — "Ze Roi est Mori! 'Vive le Roi !" 
Bohmer and Bassenge, however, learn by sad experience not only 
that kings do die, but that creditors, alas, do not. 

What is to be done 1 Only one course suggests itself. A young 
and lovely queen has just ascended the throne. Will it not be 
possible to induce her to become the purchaser of this unrivalled 

* Carlyle's ** Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 8. 



THE NECKLACE OFFERED TO MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 17 

specimen of bijouterie ? The office of crown jeweller carries with it 
the privilege of enti^e'e to the presence of royalty at all times and 
seasons ; while " other jewellers, and even innumerable gentlemen 
and small nobility, languish in the vestibule. With the costliest 
ornaments in his pockets, or borne after him by assiduous shop- 
boys, the happy Bohmer sees high drawing-rooms and sacred ruelles 
fly open as with talismanic sesame, and the brightest eyes of the whole 
world grow brighter : to him alone of all men the Unapproachable 
reveals herself in mysterious negligee, taking and giving counsel."^ 

It was to Versailles that Eohmer betook himself, carrying with 
him the Diamond Necklace in its case of richest velvet, and ere 
many hours have elapsed he is displaying its matchless variegated 
brilliancy — its " flashes of star-rainbow colours " to the admiring 
gaze of the beauteous Marie- Antoinette, then just twenty years of 
age, of a gay and lively disposition, verging, some say, on to giddi- 
ness, yet perfectly innocent ; fond of pleasure, and, like other fair 
young creatures in this world, not indifferent to those personal 
ornaments which help to enhance the charms which Nature has 
bestowed upon them with so liberal a hand. Still, pleased as she 
was with the gem, she nevertheless felt that the times were un- 
propitious; or else she scorned, may be, to wear an ornament, 
however beautiful, the original destination of which was, to say 
the least of it, unfortunate. But be this as it may, one thing is 
quite certain, the purchase of the Necklace was declined. 

Thus in a moment, as it were, all those fond hopes with which 
the crown jewellers had buoyed themselves up for many months 
past were dissipated, and they were again constrained to ask each 
other, "what is now to be done?" Poor men, they were not to 
blame, for how could they have foreseen that their royal customer, 
fall of health in November, 1773, when he gave the order, should 
be dead of small -pox on the 10th of May following 1 After several 
days spent in deliberation the partners decided that a drawing of 
the Necklace should be made and an engraving executed, and that 
printed copies of this should be sent to all the courts of Europe, to 
see whether a customer could not be obtained for a jewel which, 
ransack the entire world through, would be found without its equal. 



Carlyle's "Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 6. 
B 



18 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

This scheme, however, clever as it was, proved abortive ; for 
what kind of idea could the cunningest graver and the most 
liquescent of printing inks possibly give of brilliants of the very 
finest water? The jewellers next resolved that one of the firm — 
Bassenge being the younger and more active was eventually fixed 
upon — should devote himself to travelling over Europe, and to 
visiting the various courts, where he might personally solicit the 
different empresses, queens, princesses, landgravines, margravines, 
electresses, infantas, and grand and arch-duchesses, to purchase 
this costly jewel, which only a neck flushing with the blood of 
royalty was worthy to wear. During this time Bohmer was to re- 
main in Paris, to avail himself of any opportunity that might offer 
for reopening negotiations with Marie-Antoinette. One circum- 
stance^ however, rendered the prospect of success doubtful. The 
queen had become indebted to the crown jewellers in the sum of 
348,000 livres (francs), for a pair of diamond earrings, of which 
amount she had herself only been able to pay some 48,000 livres,^ 
leaving 300,000 livres still due. 

In this way several years went by. Shortly after the birth of 
Madame Royale, the Necklace was again offered to the queen, but 
although the reduced price of one million eight hundred thousand 
livres was named for it, there was a more serious obstacle than 
ever in the way of its purchase. France was at this period engaged 
in a war with England on behalf of the American Colonists, and 
her navy was in a most crippled condition. No sooner did the 
crown jeweller name the subject of the Necklace, than Marie- 
Antoinette interrupted him with this queen-like remark, "Monsieur, 
we have more need of men-of-war now than of diamonds."' What 
reply could a crown jeweller make to so pertinent an observation 
as this 1 All he could do was to feel affronted, and hastily making 
his obeisances, he flung himself into the corner of his carriage, and 
set off down the long Avenue de Paris on his return to the Rue 
Vendome in no very amiable mood. 

^ In the Uvre rouge of Louis XVI., under the date December, 1776, there 
is an entry, in the king's own hand, "Given to the queen 25,000 livres, 
the first payment of a sum of 300,000 Hvres which I have engaged to pay 
with interest to Bohmer in six years. " — See Archives of the Republic. 

" " Correspondance Secrete de la Cour de Louis XVI." 



MESDEMOISELLES DE VALOIS VISIT BAR-SUR-AUBE. 19 



V. 

1779-1780. 

AT BAR-SUR-AUBE. COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 

While Monsieur Bassenge Calaphibus-like is wandering up and 
down Europe trying to dispose of the ill-fated Diamond Necklace, 
let us see what our heroine is doing now that she has freed herself 
from the restraints of a conventual life in order to launch forth 
into the great world with no one to direct, no one to control her. 
On leaving the abbey of Longchamp the two sisters decided upon 
making their way to Bar-sur-Aube, and embarked on board one of 
the Seine barges plying between Paris and Nogent, from which 
latter place they proceeded up the river Aube to their destination.^ 
The youngest sister, it seems, was possessed with a certain longing 
to return to the place of her birth. Whether this arose from a 
feeling of vanity, a desire to show off before the simple rustics of 
Fontette, or whether love was the actuating principle — for she had 
left a sweetheart behind her when she was summoned to Paris — is 
more than we can tell. Arrived at Bar-sur-Aube, our heroine in- 
forms us that she and her sister at once entered a convent, where 
many visitors called upon them, and invited them to a roimd of 
entertainments at which every one present vied with his neighbour 
as to who should pay them the greatest amount of attention. She 
even asserts that they received invitations from the different noble 
families in the neighbourhood, and, in pursuance of these, entered 
upon a series of visits varying from a few days to a week in extent. 
When these visits were over, we are told that a Madame de Sure- 
mont enticed them to board at her house, where they were " very 
elegantly entertained" for four hundred livres (sixteen pounds) 
per annum. ^ 

^ " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 9. 

^ "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 146, et seq. 



20 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Other accounts, which we believe to be more trustworthy, assert 
that the sisters arrived at Bar-sur-Aube with merely a few livres in 
their pockets, and a single change of linen beyond the clothes they 
had on, and that, instead of entering a convent, they put up at a 
miserable little inn called " La Tete Bouge," where they made 
good their footing by their high titles and the claims they set up 
to the manors of Essoyes, Fontette, and Verpiliere, in the neigh- 
bourhood. The great expectations they announced soon became 
generally known in a small country town, and the consequence was 
that the good people round about flocked to see them out of 
curiosity, and it was then that Madame de Suremont, touched by 
their distress, offered the fugitives the use of her house for a few 
days until they could manage to provide some other lodging for 
themselves. 

On retiring for the night their hostess, a very stout lady, kindly 
lent them two of her own dresses to wear, observing, however, that 
she was afraid they would be too large to fit them. What was 
Madame de Suremont's astonishment to see her young guests enter 
the sitting-room the following morning with the dresses, which 
they had spent the night in cutting and adapting to their own 
slim figures, fitting them to perfection ! Instead, too, of stopping 
merely a week at this hospitable house, according to the terms of 
their invitation, the Demoiselles de Valois managed to remain in 
it for twelve months, flirting with all the young fellows who visited 
there, and exhibiting more levity and freedom than was becoming 
to their sex.^ The ladies, naturally enough, all shrank aghast 
from this bold behaviour, but the gentlemen were more or less 
amused at it. 

In due course several of these young fellows became smitten 
with our heroine, and amongst those who contested for the honour 
of her smiles were two who stood out in advance of the rest. One 
was M. Beugnot, the writer of the Memoirs we have been quoting, 
and son of a well-to-do citizen of Bar-sur-Aube. The latter, however, 
was so alarmed at the mere idea of having Mademoiselle de Valois 
for a daughter-in-law that he packed off his son to Paris to study 
law, politics, and human nature, which he did to such good pur- 

* **M6moires du Conite Beugnot," vol. i. p. 10, ei sft^. 



M. DE LA MOTTE THE FAVOURED SUITOE. 21 

pose as to escape the guillotine, and get created a councillor of 
state and a count by Napoleon, by whom he was appointed ad- 
ministrator of one of the Rhine provinces. At the Restoration he 
was named ad interim minister of the interior, then minister of 
police, next minister of marine, afterwards postmaster-general, 
and finally director-general of the administration of finances ; and 
was altogether so eager a place-hunter, that a pamphleteer of the 
time said of him that he would have hired himself out to the 
plague if the plague only gave pensions. The other was M. de la 
Motte, a nephew of Madame de Suremont's, and son of a chevalier 
of St. -Louis killed at the battle of Minden. This young gentleman, 
an officer, or as Madame Campan and the Abbe Georgel say, a 
private in the gendarmerie, and destitute of any fortune whatever, 
had already managed to involve himself deeply in debt. Previous 
to the Revolution the gendarmerie, very different from the force 
now known by that name, was the first cavalry regiment in France, 
and the usual refuge for young men of good family but poor 
estate. 

Let us hear what the lady herself has to say respecting this 
young man (who had only his sword with which to cut his way to 
fortune), and his pretensions to be considered the accepted suitor 
of a descendant of the royal house of Valois. 

" Amongst many other species of amusement, we frequently per- 
formed comedies, in one of which I engaged to take a part. M. de 
la Motte, an officer in the gendarmes, and nephew of Madame de 
Suremont, being on a visit to Bar-sur-Aube, acquired great reputa- 
tion for his performance, and became remarked for his assiduity 
and attention to please. The part of a valet was assigned to him, 
and that of a waiting-maid to me. We divided the applause of the 
company, for having, as they pleased to express, sustained our 
characters with so much propriety. 

" From the moment of our first interview M. de la Motte paid 
me very pointed attention. He eagerly seized every opportunity 
of showing me how solicitous he was to please. His compliments 
were not glaring, but of that delicate nature which could only pro- 
ceed from the genuine dictates of an honest heart. Elegant in 
person and manners, and insinuating in address, the honourable 
intention which he manifested could not prove disagreeable to 



22 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

me. I listened, and, as I believe, is generally the consequence 
where any of our sex listen to the persuasions of youth, elegance, 
and accomplishments in the other, I was soon not far from loving 
him. 

" Madame de Suremont perceived the growing attachment of her 
nephew, and afforded him every opportunity of urging his suit. 
She frequently left us together when the company were gone, engag- 
ing M. de la Motte to remain and write out my parts, and give me 
instructions in acting them. 

" I will ingenuously confess that I loved M. de la Motte. He 
possessed a sincerity of heart, seldom to be found excepting in the 
country, blended with those polished manners which mark the 
habitue of the metropolis. He seized every opportunity of render- 
ing himself agreeable, and I had every reason to suppose he enter- 
tained favourable sentiments towards me, at least I wished so, and 
the gradation is so natural that it will not appear strange if I 
believed it. 

" M. de la Motte, I had remarked for some days, appeared 
thoughtful and melancholy ; but as he had never communicated 
to me the cause, though I was uneasy at the effect of it, I forebore 
to make inquiry. He advised me to go to Paris to see my brother, 
and to make known his pretensions to Madame de Boulainvilliers, 
my worthy mother, and endeavour to obtain her consent to our 
union. Fearful that breaking this matter suddenly to the 
marchioness, after having carried it on so far without her know- 
ledge, might give her offence, I hesitated some time ere I could 
form a resolution to acquaint her; but, trusting to her goodness, I 
at length yielded to M. de la Motte's arguments in favour of a 
determination which was also consonant to the dictates of my own 
heart. 

" When I had resolved on a journey to Paris, which highly grati- 
fied M. de la Motte, I at once wrote a letter to Madame de Boulain- j 
villiers, informing her that having heard of my brother's arrival, and f 
being anxious to see him, I should be at Paris the Saturday follow- 
ing by eight o'clock. The interval was occupied by M. de la Motte 
in giving me directions for my behaviour, and earnestly pressing 
me to return as sopn as possible, and complete his happiness by 
the celebration of our nuptials. Not a single person in the house, 



JEANNE UNDERTAKES A JOURNEY TO PARIS. 23 

not even my sister, was acquainted with what was in agitation. 
The attentions of M. de la Motte had long been observed, but our 
marriage was whispered of only as a conjecture. 

" On the Wednesday following, about three in the morning, I set 
off in the diligence, and after a very tedious and disagreeable 
journey, over roads which at once prove the neglect of the govern- 
ment and the patience of the people, I arrived near Paris, and found 
Julia, the marchioness's first woman, waiting with a coach at the 
Porte Saint-Antoine. I was not a little pleased at being so neai 
the end of my journey, and felt no regret at quitting my disagree- 
able vehicle for the one which conveyed me to the Hotel de 
Boulainvilliers. 

" I was impatient to see my brother, but I was disappointed ; he 
had received orders to join his squadron at Brest. Madame de 
Boulainvilliers received me with that cordiality and affection with 
which the tenderest of mothers would receive her daughter after a 
long absence. She told me that my brother w^ould not have written 
to inform me of his arrival if it could have been foreseen how 
soon he was to depart. This information gave me much uneasi- 
ness, which Madame de Boulainvilliers used the utmost assiduity 
to dissipate. 

" The evening was occupied by many questions w^hich the 
marchioness asked me relative to Bar-sur-Aube, concerning our 
reception and the diversions and entertainments of the place. I 
took advantage of this opportunity to mention the comedy. I per- 
ceived, from a sign she made to Madame de Tonneres, her daughter, 
that she had some private correspondent in that place, who had 
informed her of more than I knew, and that the information 
I had to give w^as by no means novel. This surprised me not a 
little. 

" A day or two after they resumed the topic, and Madame de 
Tonneres asked me w^hat character I played. I told her that of a 
waiting-maid. She seemed surprised that I should choose a part 
like that, when there were many others for which I was much 
better adapted. ' But who,' said Madame de Boulainvilliers, ' was 
the young man who played the part of Jasmin ? Is he a young 
man ? Pray how old is he ? ' I could not w^ell comprehend the 
drift of these questions, which, nevertheless, I found myself con- 



21 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

strained to answer. * He is a young gentleman/ 1 replied, * who has a 
commission in the gendarmes,' and I then proceeded to give them 
information respecting his family. ' And what do you think of 
him?' * That he has a pleasing address, is much of a gentleman, 
and has received a very good education ; understands music, and 
dances to perfection : everybody gives him the credit of being a 
very accomplished young man, and all admit that he played his 
character like an experienced actor.' Perceiving me growing warm 
in my encomiums, the marchioness smiled. Her daughter observed 
it, and they exchanged some very significant glances with each 
other, and then, to avoid giving me any suspicions, changed the 
subject of the conversation. 

" On another occasion Madame de Tonneres, with whom I was 
frequently left alone, examined me yet more closely respecting M. 
de la Motte. 'What !' inquired she, in a tone of raillery, 'did this 
presumptuous wretch ever aspire to be your husband V ' Oh, yes ! 
he proposed demanding me in marriage through his mother, at the 
same time informing me of his fortune and expectations.' ' And 
what answer did you make, my dear ?' * That I would beg Madame 
de Boulainvilliers to give her consent,' replied I. ' But did you 
give no promise of your own accord, and ar€ you really partial to 
him V I answered these questions in the affirmative. ' Well, then, 
my dear,' replied she, 'from your approbation, I will believe him 
worthy of your love.' ' Then do me the favour,' replied I, ' to 
represent my affections to my dear mother, at some convenient 
opportunity when I am not present ; and you may, if you please, 
inform her, at the same time, that M. de la Luzerne, bishop of 
Langres, can give her every information concerning the family with 
which he is well acquainted : indeed, he has been requested by the 
mother of M. de la Motte to demand me in marriage.' The result 
was that Madame de Tonneres kindly undertook my cause with 
the marchioness, who, having my happiness at heart, wished me, in 
a matter which could but once be resolved on, to take time for de- 
liberation. 

" Though Madame de Boulainvilliers seemed rather to dissuade 
me from my purpose than oonsent to its accomplishment, she 
nevertheless consented to write to the Bishop of Langres, who the 
very next evening paid her a visit. As soon as he arrived I made 



JEANNE RETURNS TO BAR-SUR-AUBE. 25 

my obedience and retired, leaving him and the marchioness to their 
private conference. 

" I was in no small state of anxiety to learn the result of a 
negotiation to me of such importance, yet was at a loss of whom to 
inquire. The next morning I was relieved from suspense, for I re- 
ceived a letter from the reverend prelate, informing me of their 
conversation the evening before. He gave me some hopes of ob- 
taining the consent of the marchioness, and this was all ; as for 
the marquis, I learnt that he positively refused his consent to the 
match. 

" In a few days I departed for Bar-snr-Aube : my regret at part- 
ing with the marchioness was increased by my having to return 
home without obtaining her consent to our marrigCge, which, though 
this had been the express object of my journey, I could not con- 
sistently with delicacy or duty press any further, lest I should 
appear too precipitately to reject the prudent advice which she had 
given me. 

" My return to Bar-sur-Aube was much more agreeable than my 
journey to Paris. I had written to my sister and M. de la Motte 
to apprise them of it, and was met by them about two leagues from 
Bar-sur-Aube, at a beautiful seat, the residence of M. de la Motte's 
mother. 

" The news of my departure, and the object of my journey, had 
transpired and spread through the village ; every one spoke of my 
marriage with M. de la Motte. It was whispered that Made- 
moiselle de Valois had returned with the consent of her brother 
and Madame de Boulainvilliers to solemnize this marriage ; all 
welcomed me with as much pleasure as if, instead of a week, I had 
been absent a year. 

" M. de la Motte received me with heartfelt satisfaction, but his 
countenance seemed to speak a degree of anxiety ; he feared that 
it was the intension of Madame de Boulainvilliers to have married 
me to some other husband, and trembled for the success of my em- 
bassy : he read in my looks that all was not as it should be, while 
the words which dropped from Madame de Boulainvilliers made 
me doubtful whether I should be able to obtain her consent. The 
uneasiness which on this account overspread my countenance was 
intelligible only to M. de la Motte, by whose advice I was prevailed 



26 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

upon to take the only steps prudence dictated in so delicate and 
embarrassing a position. 

" My pen was the instrument by which I disclosed a secret my 
timidity could never suffer my tongue to discover ; I immediately 
wrote to Madame de Boulainvilliers three successive letters, en- 
treating her to compassionate my distress, and to let. her consent 
grace our union. I also wrote to the Bishop of Langres, asking 
that worthy prelate, who before had done me signal service, to in- 
tercede with the marchioness in my behalf. The intercession of 
the bishop I was confident would have its due weight, and indeed 
it at length produced that consent so essential to my future 
happiness. 

"The approbation of Madame de Boulainvilliers having now 
given a sanction to our proceedings, an early day was appointed, 
by the advice of the friends of M. de la Motte, for the celebration 
of our nuptials, which took place, according to the custom of the 
province, at midliight on the 6th of June, 1780. 

"The day after our marriage a grand dinner was given by 
Madame de Suremont. The entertainment was profusely elegant. 
There were two tables, one in the antechamber, and the other in 
the dining-room. Every apartment wa^ open and very soon 
crowded ; the health of the bride was an apology for drinking wine 
as though it had been water. When the company quitted the table, 
all were desirous to salute and wish me joy. The remainder of the 
day was spent in dancing. 

" The banns of marriage had been published at Fontette, which 
made the peasants of that place curious to know the day. They 
came in great numbers to Bar-sur-Aube, with the intention of 
witnessing the ceremony, and remained there some days. Amongst 
them was a young peasant, a comely young fellow, who came to 
Madame de Suremont and inquired bluntly for Mademoiselle 
Filliette, a name by which my sister had formerly been known in 
the country. ' I know no such person,' replied she: 'whom do you 
mean by Mademoiselle Filliette V ' Why, madame,' replied the 
clown, ' the sister of mademoiselle who is just married. Please tell 
her I am Colas, of Fontette ; she will recollect me.' 

" Madame de Suremont communicated this to my sister, who, 
out of compassion for the unfortunate rustic, refused to see him lest 



THE SISTERS DE VALOIS VISIT FONTETTE. 27 

such an interview should make him more unhappy. Durand, indeed, 
to detain my sister in the country, had promised her in marriage to 
this peasant, whose appearance was greatly in his favour, but the 
recognition of her birth by the people in the neighbourhood had 
kindled in the bosom of Marianne hopes of an alliance more con- 
sonant to her ideas, more consistent with her present station. Far 
from despising this poor creature, she wished to avoid giving him 
pain. She begged me, therefore, to speak to him : I did so. 
* Good day, my dear friend,' said I, ' what are your commands for 
my sister V * I wish, madame,' replied he, * to have the honour of 
paying my respects to her. She is of the same age, we have stood 
sponsors together, and M. Durand, her godfather, promised me that 
I should marry her. But her fortune is changed; she is now 
Mademoiselle deYalois; and I am not quite such a fool as to think 
that she will have me for her husband, as she is descended from the 
blood-royal ; but I wish to have the pleasure of seeing her in her 
fine clothes, for I am sure,' continued he, bursting into tears, * she 
is very handsome !'^ I could not help shedding a tear of pity for 
this honest rustic. His grief, however, was not to be alleviated ; 
the presence of my sister would but have increased his misery ; at 
least she thought so, and could not be prevailed upon to see him. 
Finding himself without hope, he went home again, murmuring at 
what he termed the false-heartedness of his mistress. 

"Some few days after I accompanied my sister to Fontette, 
where, it being Sunday, we went to mass. All the peasants rose 
from their seats at our entrance, and desired the curate should do 
us honour, as the children of the Baron de Saint-Remi their late 
lord. We received the holy water and the consecrated bread in the 
seat of honour ; the bells were rung, and every one testified their 
joy on our arrival. They crowded about the house where we 
were staying ; we ordered them six livres a-piece, for which they 
testified their gratitude by drinking our healths, and the health of 
the Baron de Saint-Remi de Valois, and his safe return. They 
then conducted me to the mansion of my ancestors, and round the 
grounds of the patrimonial estate. This mansion, this noble estate, 

^ M. Beugnot says Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi was a fat, handsome girl, 
extremely fair, and very dull and stupid, with just sufficient instuict to 
divine that she was a great lady. 



28 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

thought I to myself, might have been possessed by the descendants 
of those who acquired it by valour,^ and enjoyed it with hospitality. 
I lamented the ravages of luxury : I thought of the credulity and 
easy temper of my father, who sacrificed everything to the extra- 
vagance of his wife. Had it not been for these he might have 
sustained the dignity of his ancestors, and his miserable offspring 
have maintained that position to which they were by birth en- 
titled. "^ 

To provide herself with a suitable trousseau, Mademoiselle de 
Valois had been obliged to raise one thousand livres on a mortgage 
of her pension for two years; while, to defray the expenses incident 
to the wedding, M. de la Motte, on his part, sold for six hundred 
livres a horse and cabriolet which he had only bought a short time 
previously on credit at Luneville, where his corps w^as doing gar- 
rison duty.^ 

We will close this chapter with a pair of portraits of Monsieur 
and Madame de la Motte, which their friend Beugnot has sketched 
for our benefit. " M. de la Motte," observes his rival, " was an 
ugly man, but well made and skilled in all bodily exercises, whilst, 
despite his ugliness, the expression of his face was amiable and 
mild. He did not exactly lack talent, stillwhat he possessed was 
frittered away on trifles. Destitute of all fortune, he was clever 
enough to get head over ears in debt, and only lived by his wits 
and on the trifling allowance of three hundred francs a year which 
his uncle, M. de Suremont, was obliged to make him to enable him 
to retain his position in the gendarmerie." 

With regard to Madame de la Motte, Beugnot says : " She was 
not exactly handsome, was short in stature, slender, and well 
formed. Her blue eyes were full of expression and over-arched with 
black eyebrows ; her face rather long; her mouth wide, but adorned 
with fine teeth, and, what is the greatest attraction in such a face 

* Acquired it rather by the accident of being born baetard ofispring of a 
king. 

= "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 151, et seq. 
The reader must take this glowing description of the wedding and what 
transpired subsequently at Fontette, subject to large allowances for Madame 
do la Motte's habitual exaggeration, to make use of no stronger term. 

3 " Memoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 16. 



THE HOME OF THE YOUNG SAINT REMIS. 29 

as hers, her smile was enchanting. She had a pretty hand, a very 
small foot, and a complexion of dazzling whiteness. When she 
spoke her mind exhibited no sign of acquired knowledge, but she 
had much natural intelligence, and a quick and penetrating under- 
standing. Engaged in a perpetual conflict with society from the 
time of her birth, she had learned to disdain its laws, and had but 
little respect for those of morality." 

M. Beugnot adds the following anecdote : 

" When I returned home that evening my father mentioned to 
me that fifteen or twenty years previously, whenever he went to 
collect his rents in the parish of Essoyes, the cure of Fontette never 
failed to tax his purse for the poor children of Jacques de Saint- 
llemi, who were huddled together in a dilapidated hovel with a trap- 
hole in front, through which soup, vegetables, broken victuals, and 
other charitable doles were passed by the neighbours." ^ 

'"Memoires du Cointe Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 11-14. 



30 THE STOUY OF TEE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



VI. 

1780-1782. 

COUNTESS DB LA MOTTE. IN BARRACKS AT LUNEVILLE. ON A FIFTH 

FLOOR IN PARIS. ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER. 

From the day of her marriage, in the summer of 1780, our heroine 
assumed the title of Countess de Valois de la Motte, though on 
ordinary occasions she dropped the former portion of it, retaining 
only the name of De la Motte, by which she afterwards became so 
notorious. The wedding did not take place a day too soon, for in 
the course of the same or following month the countess gave birth 
to male twins, that died a few days afterwards. Thereupon Madame 
de Suremont, glad of an excuse for getting rid of her new relation 
— the old lady used to say to Beugnot that " the most unhappy 
year of her life was the one she spent in the society of this demon," 
— turned the newly-married couple out of her house. ^ They took 
refuge for a time with Madame de la Tour, a married sister of the 
count's — the young gendarme following the example of his wife, 
had likewise assumed a title — but were finally obliged to rely on 

^ " Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 13. Rdtaxix de Villette, one 
of the countess's many lovers, and of whom we shall by-and-by have occa- 
sion to speak, professes to have heard the story of the countess's numerous 
liaisons from her own lips. He says that the reprobate Marquis de Boulain- 
villiers succeeded in seducing both the countess and her sister, and that the 
former was moreover enceinte by the Bishop of Langres at the time of her 
marriage with M. de la Motte, which is the reason why this "worthy pre- 
late," as the countess styles him, interested himself in hastening forward the 
ceremony. This may seem a starthng statement, but those who are aware 
of the extreme immorality which pervaded the upper classes of French 
society at this period, and especially the clerical section of it, will have no 
difficulty in believing it. If such things were done in the j^reen wood, 
what might we not look for in the dry? — See "M^moire Historique des 
Intrigues de la Cour," etc., par B^taux de Villette, p. 4, et seq., also jpost^ 
p. 35. 



THE OPENING OF JEANNE'S MAEBIED LIFE. 31 

their own resources, which, as may be supposed, were of the 
narrowest. De la Motte himself had nothing but his sword, and 
the countess had not even her scanty pension to depend upon. 
Now commenced with them that life of shifts and expedients, which 
is certain in the long run to disappoint those who are unhappily 
reduced to enter upon it, which subverts the principles, destroys 
the best habits of even the firmest characters, and too frequently 
culminates in crime. By borrowing money from friends and 
neighbours so long as they were disposed to lend it, by occasional 
loans from money-lenders at exorbitant rates of interest, by run- 
ning into debt with the tradespeople, and by certain small bounties 
received from Paris, to assist the descendants of Henri II., in 
answer to supplicatory letters written by the countess, the nswly- 
married couple dragged on as best they could. 

The count's leave of absence having at length expired, he was 
summoned back to garrison duty at Luneville, a dull, decaying, 
fortified town, composed of straight streets and regular buildings, 
where in subsequent years the treaty of peace was signed between 
France and Austria which gave to the former the coveted frontier 
of the Rhine. The palace built by Philip, duke of Lorraine, 
grandfather of Marie-Antoinette, was then, as now, a caserne de 
cavalerie, and it was to this barrack that Count de la Motte took 
his wife to share with him his incommodious quarters. Here ma- 
dame's " lively complexion " and " excess of vivacity," as she styles 
them, were not long in exercising their sway over the more sus- 
ceptible of her husband's comrades. In September of the follow- 
ing year the count and his wife had determined upon proceeding 
to Paris to urge the Marchioness de Boulainvilliers to interest her- 
self in their behalf, a project which was knocked on the head by 
the count's commanding officer, the Marquis d'Autichamp, — whose 
too familiar intimacy with Madame de la Motte was the talk not 
merely of the corps, but of the town,^ and who had himself con- 
templated escorting madame on her journey to the capital, — peremp- 
torily refusing the count any further leave of absence. Just at 

"^"M^moire Historique des Intrigues de laCour," etc., par R^taux de 
Villette, p. 5. Villette was in the same corps as Count de la Motte, and 
on duty at Luneville at the time we are speaking of. 



'32 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

this time intelligence reaches the De la Mottes that the Marquis 
and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers are at Strasbourg, only some 
threescore miles or so away. Commanding-officer d'Autichamp, we 
suppose, relents ; for the count gets a few days' leave, and to Stras- 
bourg the pair hasten as fast as a French diligence of the eighteenth 
century will carry them, which is, however, not fast enough, for on 
their arrival they learn from the great charlatan of the age, Count 
Cagliostro, who just then happens to be showing off in the capital 
of Alsace, that the Marquis and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers 
have departed for Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan's Palace at 
Saverne. There was nothing else but to give chase, so off the De 
la Mottes start, and on their arrival in the vicinity of the episcopal 
chateau, put up at some little inn, whence the countess Avrile? to 
Madame de Boulainvilliers, apprising her that she is in the neigh- 
bourhood, and asking when she may be permitted to call upon her. 
The next day she is honoured by a visit from the marquis, who 
escorts her over to his wife. Some few days afterwards, while the 
marchioness and madame are taking a carriage drive together, they 
meet the Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, to whom 
Madame de Boulainvilliers introduces her 'protegee, and strongly 
recommends her to this powerful prelate's 'kindly notice.^ 

On her return home to barrack quarters, if home indeed they 
could be called, the countess harped, day after day, upon her 
fancied claims to the three estates that formerly belonged to her 
family, and no wonder if she at length came to the conclusion that 
Paris and Versailles, rather than a dull garrison town like Lun^- 
ville, were the proper spheres for her enterprise and ambition. To 
Paris, therefore, she resolved to go ; but, alas ! how was she to 
obtain the means of defraying the expenses of her journey and of 
her sojourn in the capital? Commanding-officer d'Autichamp 
would willingly escort her there, and pay all travelling expenses, 
but just then her husband is jealous and cannot be brought to con- 
sent. Fortunately for the countess, one of her Bar-sur-Aube 
friends — the father of the M. Beugnot, of whom we have already 
spoken — came to the rescue with a loan of one thousand livres, and 
to her honour it may be recorded, that whenever afterwards she 

' " Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 



THE COUNTESS GOES TO PAEIS. 33 

spoke of this service she was always much moved, and, what is 
perhaps more to her credit, during the period of her dishonest 
prosperity she paid the money, as she paid all the debts she had 
contracted at Bar-sur-Aube, her adopted home. However corrupt 
her general character may have been, she was certainly not wanting 
in gratitude. 

This thousand livres she and her husband divided equally be- 
tween them, and they then set forth in different directions it is true, 
but still with the same object at heart, namely, to procure the 
restitution of the Saint-Remi estates. The countess went to Paris 
to press her claims on the attention of those in power. The count 
resigned his post in the gendarmerie, never to do, from that hour 
forward, another day of honest work during the remainder of his 
long life, and betook himself to Fontette to search for evidence on 
the spot, and to ascertain the exact nature of the steps requisite to 
be taken to recover possession of this and the adjacent Saint-Remi 
domains. Arrived at his destination, he caused a Te Deum to be 
chanted in the church, and, as the congregation were leaving, 
scattered handfuls of silver among the gaping crowd, who, on ex- 
periencing this mark of favour, did not hesitate to hail him as their 
lord ; and lord of Fontette he was by courtesy, so long as his 
money lasted, which, unfortunately for the rustics of the place, was 
not long. His last livre dissipated, the count was only too glad to 
get back again to Bar-sur-Aube to such a home as his sister was 
able to offer him.^ 

The countess, on her part, so soon as she arrived in Paris, pro- 
ceeded to set to work. She wrote at once to young Beugnot, who 
was then prosecuting his legal studies in the capital, informing him 
that she had a letter for him from his father, and asking him to 
call upon her. Beugnot lost no time in complying with her re- 
quest, and found the purport of the letter was to urge him 
thoroughly to examine the countess's claims to the Fontette, Essoyes, 
and other estates, and see if there was any real foundation for 
them. " I took the affair," says Beugnot, " seriously in hand as 
my father desired me, and readily enough found the letters patent 
of Henri 11. which conferred the domains in question on his natural 



* " Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 17, 19. 
C 



34 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

son, but I could not trace the various deeds diverting the posses- 
sion of them from the Saint-Remis into the hands of the different 
proprietors who were in nowise connected with the family. One of 
the latest of these, a M. Orceau de Fontette, superintendent of 
Caen, had exchanged the lands held by him with the king. This 
was a favourable circumstance for us in the prosecution of our 
claim, as the king had only to forego his hold upon the property 
to restore to the Saint-Kemis one of the possessions of their fore- 
fathers." 1 

The young lawyer now proceeded to compose a "Memoire," 
wherein, in true French style, he spoke of his client's case as "one 
more insult of fortune to the Valois, the hard lot of a branch de- 
tached from that ancient tree which had so long covered with its 
royal shade France and other European states. I interspersed my 
composition," says Beugnot, " with those philosophical reflections 
then so much in fashion, and asked the Bourbons to pay the 
natural debt of those from whom they had received so magnificent 
a heritage. I submitted my composition to M. Elie de Beaumont, 
a celebrated advocate, and also a man of taste. * It is a pity,' re- 
marked he, * that we cannot bring this business before the Parlia- 
ment ; it would make your reputation.' Alas ! I did not even 
receive for my labour the honours of print. People said it was 
entirely a matter for the royal favour, and that to print the 
* Memoire ' would be contrary to the respect due to the king."*^ 
Beugnot thereupon composed a new " Memoire,'^ or rather petition 
to the crown, which was in due course presented, though without 
producing the result which the sanguine expectations of the countess 
and her advocate anticipated from it. 

Early in November, 1781, either by previous invitation from the 
marchioness or of her own accord, Madame de la Motte presented 
herself at the Hotel de Boulainvilliers, bent upon jogging the 
marchioness's memory with reference to a commission in the 
dragoons which she had made a half promise to obtain for the 
count, her husband, and intending to say a few words respecting 
her own claim to the Saint-Bemi estates, when, to her surprise and 
grief, she found her benefactress lying dangerously ill. She re- 

^ "M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 18. 
^n>i(i, vol. i. p. 20. 



THE COUNTESS TENDS HER OLD BENEFACTRESS. 35 

mained and tended her until her death, which took place in about 
three weeks ; yet, strange to say, she was nnable to forego her 
passion for intrigue even at a time like this, for she admits, while 
the marchioness was lying past hope of recovery, having had a 
tete-d-tete interview with the marquis, on the length of which she 
was rallied by the gentlemen staying at the hotel. During this 
interview the marquis, she tells us, made her "a downright pro- 
posal " to the effect that on his wife's death she should reside with 
him as his mistress, he engaging to procure for her husband a post 
in some regiment which should " prevent him from troubling them 
too often." All this she calmly listened to, and when the mar- 
chioness was dead still continued to reside under the same roof 
with t-he man who had made this disgraceful proposition to her, 
exposed, as she herself admits, to his daily persecutions. The old 
reprobate, too, was always upbraiding her, she says, with " loving 
other men better than him," and openly accused her of carrying on 
an intrigue beneath his roof with the old Bishop of Langres, who 
visited her much more frequently than the marquis thought 
necessary or prudent. 

After a while the count, who had been rusticating ever since his 
Fontette expedition at Bar-sur-Aube, turned up at the Boulain- 
villiers hotel to look after his wife, when the marquis, in revenge, 
as madame says, for the contempt with which she invariably 
treated him, endeavoured to arouse the jealousy of her husband by 
accusing her — falsely, of course — with being too intimate with his 
son-in-law, and of sundry unbecoming familiarities with the count's 
cousin, who had pawned his watch to defray the expense of a three- 
days' frolic with the countess at Versailles. However, Count de 
la Motte, according to his wife, " had too much good sense to give 
any credit to these insinuations ; he listened attentively, but did 
not believe a single iota of them."^ 

While the countess v/as residing imder the Boulainvilliers roof 
she was constantly on the look-out to push her own or her hus- 
band's fortunes, and eventually succeeded in talking over the Baron 
de Crussol, son-in-law of the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, to procure 
M. de la Motte a post in the Count d'Artois's body-guard. This 

^ "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself ," vol. i. pp. 189, 191, 204. 



36 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

necessitated the count's removal to Versailles; so, turning their 
backs on the Hotel de Boulainvilliers, where the marquis had for 
some time past adopted an unpleasant system of retrenchment in 
order to bring madame to " his way of thinking " — in other words, 
had placed the descendant of the house of Valois and her tall and 
hungry spouse on exceedingly short commons — the pair went forth 
in search of whatever Fortune might please to send them. 

From certain hints dropped by the countess it is evident that she 
had grown disgusted with the avarice and meanness rather than 
with what she styles the " detested attentions " of the marquis, 
who, had he only loosened his purse-strings, and dispensed his 
bounty with a liberal hand, had been looked upon favourably 
enough, and possibly had been the means of saving Cardinal Prince 
de Rohan from getting entangled in the countess's toils. 

It is not to be supposed that at this epoch of her career Madame 
de la Motte had forgotten her introduction to this prelate, or that 
she omitted to remind him of it, and of Madame de Boulainvilliers' 
recommendation of her to his notice and sympathy. Was he not, 
in fact. Grand Almoner of France, and, by virtue of his office, 
dispenser of the king's and a nation's bounties 1 and humiliating 
though she might pretend it to be for one whp had the blood of 
the Valois in her veins to have to appeal to the servant of the 
sovereign instead of to the throne itself, the pill, if a trifle bitter, 
must nevertheless be swallowed. 

Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan, at this time in his eight-and- 
fortieth year, is described as a tall, portly, handsome-looking man, 
with a slightly ruddy complexion, bald forehead, and almost white 
hair. There was a noble and easy bearing about him,^ and his 
manners are said to have been singularly agreeable so long as he 
kept his temper, of late grown exceedingly choleric, under re- 
straint. He was weak and vain, and credulous to a degree ; any- 
thing but devout, and mad after women.^ Unrestricted by his 
priestly office, he led a notoriously dissolute life, which scandalized 
even the loose moralists of that loose epoch ; still, he was com- 
monly looked upon as a good- enough sort of man so far as little 
acts of kindness and generosity were concerned, more especially, 

* *' Memoire pour Bette d'Etienville.' 

* *' M^moires de la Baronne d'Oberkirche," vol. i. p. 127. 



THE COUNTESS APPEALS TO THE GRAND ALMONER. 37 

too, when the suppliant happened to be of the fair sex, and 
youthful, and a beauty withal. It is not to be wondered at, 
therefore, that he responded favourably to the countess's first and 
second appeals. This gave her hope ; and, the better to profit by 
the grand almoner's liberality, and to secure his influence in 
support of her claims, she took an apartment in Paris during the 
summer of 1782 within a short distance of his hotel. It was a 
poor sort of a lodging, consisting merely of two ill-furnished rooms 
on the topmost etage at the Hotel de Reims, in the Rue de la 
Verrerie, a narrow, ill-paved, irregularly-built street — devoted at 
the present day, not to glass factories or warehouses, as its name 
would imply, but to grocery, soap, candle and dried fruit stores, 
and to locksmiths' shops, every one of which hangs out its monster 
red or golden key by way of sign — running from the Rue des 
Lombards into the Rue de Bercy, which intersects the Rue Vieille- 
du-Temple, where the Hotel de Strasbourg, or Palais-Cardinal, as 
it was sometimes called, in which for the moment all the countess's 
hopes are centred, was situated. 

This hotel built in the year 1712 by Cardinal Constantine de 
Rohan, uncle of the grand almoner, on a portion of the gardens of 
the Hotel de Soubise, is now the National Printing Ofl&ce, and inter- 
nally retains no traces of what it was when Prince Louis de Rohan 
lived here in state befitting the dignity of a prince of the German 
empire and a cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. The entrance 
gateway and the buildings forming the external boundaries of the 
court in front of the h6tel are, with the exception of some evident 
alterations, much the same as they were in the days when the 
Countess de la Motte was a frequent visitor at the Palais-Cardinal. 
The court itself is divided by parallel ranges of buildings at right 
angles with the principal front, and a gateway on the right-hand 
side leads to what was evidently the stable-court, where a noble 
bas-relief by Couston, representing the watering of the horses of 
the sun, with the animals full life-size, may be seen over one of the 
arched entrances to the stables— those stables where the horse of 
one of the cardinal's hey dues dropped down dead on a memorable 
occasion of which we shall by-and-by have to speak. 

The principal fagade of the De Rohan hotel has undergone only 
some slight alteration since the grand almoner's time, but it is far 



38 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

different with the interior ; the grand staircase has been removed, 
and the magnificent salons de reception have been converted into 
bureaux for the officials attached to the national printing establish- 
ment. In the principal waiting-room are four paintings by Boucher, 
said to have formed part of the original decorations of the Palais- 
Cardinal : one represents Mars attiring for the wars, with Venus 
holding his shield and Cupid handing him his helmet ; another 
shows Mars reposing, with Venus, who looks wonderfully like a 
French marchioness of the eighteenth century, with even a scantier 
allowance of drapery than usual, reclining beside him on a cloud ; 
a third portrays Juno with her peacock, the immortal Jove facing 
her, and Boreas and ^olus at his feet, blowing as though they 
would burst ; while in the fourth subject we have Neptune ruling 
the waves with his trident, and a trio of lusty sea-gods spurting 
water out of loug conch-shaped shells. 

The garden front of the Palais-Cardinal is far more elegant than 
the one which looks upon the court ; being decorated with lofty 
columns surmounted with enriched capitals, and having sundry 
emblems as well as the armorial bearings of the house of Kohan 
sculptured on the projections of the fagade. Only a small portion 
of the palace garden now remains to it, *• the chief part being 
covered over with long ranges of offices in which the workpeople 
attached to the national printing establishment ply their several 
callings. 

The Countess de la Motte was woman of the world enough to 
know that much may be accomplished by personal solicitation when 
written applications are of little or no avail. The Cardinal de 
Ptohan too had a reputation for gallantry ; and as for the countess 
herself, she tells us in her " Memoirs " that " her face, if not ex- 
actly handsome, had a certain piquancy about it which, combined 
with her vivacity (Beugnot admits her smile was perfectly enchant- 
ing), supplied in her the want of beauty so far as to lay her open 
to the importunities of designing men." She therefore sought an 
audience of the grand almoner, and, finding that this would be 
accorded her, called upon young Beugnot the day before to beg 
three things of him — his carriage, his servant to follow her, and 
himself to accompany her. " All these," said she, " are indispen- 
sable, since there are only two good ways of asking alms — at the 



PEEPARATIONS TO ENSNARE THE GRAND ALMONER. 39 

church door, and in a carriage." " I did not," observes Beugnot, 
*' raise any difficulties as to the first two points, but I peremptorily 
refused my arm, as I could only have presented myself with her 
before the Cardinal de Rohan in the character of her advocate, after 
bis eminence had been notified of my coming, and had given his 
permission."^ Madame was, therefore, constrained to present herself 
at the cardinal's hotel without any other escort beyond the footman 
lent to her by her friend. 

At the first interview Madame de la Motte had with the cardinal, 
the latter, as might have been expected from his well-known char- 
acter for gallantry, proved incapable of resisting the countess's art- 
ful allurements, and she, bent on completing the conquest which 
«he felt she had made, was careful on the occasion of subsequent 
visits to the Hotel de Strasbourg, to pay the utmost attention to 
her toilet — decking herself out in her finest feathers, putting on 
her most coquettish airs, and making the magnificent saloons of the 
Kue Vielle-du-Temple redolent v/ith the odour of her perfumes. ^ 

* ** M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 21, 22. 
^ *'M6inoire Historique des Intrigues de la Conr," etc., par R^taux de 
Villette, p. 10. 



40 THE STOBT OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



VII. 

1783. 

OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES. — SENDS OUT BEGGING 

LETTERS AND PETITIONS. FAINTS IN MADAME'S SALLE d'aTTENTE. 

DESPAIR. 

At the time the countess was engaged in setting her snares for the 
Cardinal de Rohan, she dined one day with our young Bar-sur- 
Aube advocate, who saw that she was in most excellent spirits, 
which every now and then exhaled in malicious remarks respecting 
their common acquaintances. "I tried in vain," says Beugnot, 
" to lead her to more serious talk. Irritated at last, I threatened 
to abandon her entirely to her folly. She answered me gaily that 
she no longer had need of me. My brow contracted; she saw that 
she was likely to lose me, and took the trouble to explain to me 
that I had been exceedingly useful to her in unravelling the 
particulars of her claim, in composing * memoires ' and petitions 
for her — in a word, in all the duties of an advocate — but that she 
had now arrived at a point where she required counsel of a 
different kind. She wanted some one who could point out to her 
the way of getting at the queen and the contrdleur-general^ and 
who knew equally well what was necessary to be done as to be left 
undone — in a word, one who was alike capable of concocting a good 
intrigue, and of carrying it successfully through. It was necessary 
that I should now hear from her lips, without making an ugly 
grimace with my own, that in an affair of this kind she looked 
upon me as the most foolish of men; she had, indeed, already taken 
several steps without asking my advice. Her husband's condition, 
she went on to say, was one. of ridicule to all the world, and conse- 
quently an obstacle to her advancement. She had made him enter 
as supernumerary into the Count d'Artois' body-guard, which 
would give him a sort of standing, which the gendarmerie did not. 
She had found means, moreover, to get him to Versailles to perform 



THE COUNT AND COUNTESS AT VERSAILLES. 41 

his duties there, and where, at least, he would not be so sorry a 
sight as he was in the country. She observed that she was about 
to reside at Versailles herself, in order to secure an opportunity of 
getting at the queen, and of interesting her majesty in her favour. 
This was the first time," remarks Beugnot, " that she pronounced 
the name of her sovereign in my presence."^ 

At Versailles, which at this period was crowded with intriguers 
and adventurers, living for the most part by their wits, the 
countess resided, first of all with the widow Bourgeois, in the 
Place Dauphine, whence she speedily removed to the Hotel de 
Jouy, in the Rue des RecoUets, a long narrow street leading on to 
the immense Place d'Armes, in front of the chateau. Some of its 
houses — built in strict accordance with the edict promulgated by 
the grand monarque at the time a new Versailles was springing up 
in the neighbourhood of his vast palace, namely, only a single 
storey high, with attics, and roofed with slate— evidently date back 
to the days of Louis XIV. The Hotel de Jouy, where the countess 
had her quarters, is now an ordinary dwelling-house, lofty and 
narrow, with a certain air of respectability about it, situated at the 
far end of the street (No. 23),^ in an opposite direction to the 
chateau. 

Having next to nothing to live upon, it is not to be wondered at 
that the De la Mottes were soon deeply in debt. The countess, it 
is true, converted her apartment into a kind of office, whence she 
periodically sent forth letters of supplication to the nobility for 
relief, and petitions to the crown praying for the restoration of the 
Saint-Remi domains; but although she urged her suit with 
audacious pertinacity, the result seems to have fallen far short of 
her expectations. Fortunately for her there was always the 
Cardinal de Rohan to fall back upon, and the snares which she 
laid for him appear to have been set to some purpose, for ere six 
months had gone by, Madame de la Motte had so far improved her 
acquaintance with the grand almoner, who even assisted her in 
the composition of her petitions and memorials,^ as to become con- 
vinced — in accordance with the rule she had laid down, that alms 

' " Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 25, 26. 

= "Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles," par J. A Le Roi. 

3 "Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 



42 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

could be only effectively asked for at the church-door or from a 
carriage — that a more respectable lodging was indispensable to 
enable her to profit by the opportunities which this intercourse 
seemed to open out to her. There were, moreover, other and most 
pressing reasons for quitting the Hotel de Reims. The De la 
Mottes were fifteen hundred and eighty francs in debt to their 
landlord, who had latterly not only lodged, but boarded them ; in 
addition to which the countess had quarrelled with the landlady, 
and had attempted, it was said, to throw her downstairs.^ The 
result was a police case, and their ejectment from the premises. 
A " spacious appartement" the rent of which was twelve hundred 
francs, was therefore hired by them in Paris, in the Rue Neuve- 
Saint-Gilles (No, .13), at that time a quiet and very respectable 
.street leading out of the Rue Saint-Louis, now the Rue Turenne, 
and consisting entirely of private houses, within sight, too, of the 
Place Royale, where three centuries ago stood the ancient Palais 
des Tournelles, at the tournament in front of which Madame de la 
Motto's royal ancestor, Henri de Valois, lost his life, and almost in 
a direct line (in an opposite direction to the Rue de la Verrerie) 
with the cardinal's hotel, from which it was distant only a couple 
of short streets, or some five or six minutes' walk. Owing to their 
straitened means the De la Mottes were unable to furnish their 
new appartement until the month of May, 1783, and in the mean- 
time madame, when not at Versailles, was obliged to live au 
cinquieme with the mother of her femme de chambre,^ and yet she 
pretends that at this time she kept five servants, male and female, 
and a couple of carriages.^ 

This was mere vain boasting. She was not yet in a position to 
ask alms from a carriage, but was still obliged to send her begging 
letters through the post, or be herself the bearer of them. One of 
these missives, written at this particular epoch, and evidently 
addressed to some person in an ofiicial position — possibly to M. 
d'Ormesson, the then controller-general, or to M. de Breteuil, 
minister of the king's household — has been preserved, and furnishes 
a fair specimen of her style of appeal to persons in power — a little 

' " MiSmoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan, "p. 9. 

= Ibid., p. 10. 

3 ** Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." 



A BEGGING LETTER OF THE COUNTESSES. 43 

flattery, more or less hypocrisy, allusions to her high descent, and a 
covert threat or two. We extract its main passages, which we have 
translated as closely as the bad handwriting and worse spelling of 
the original document admitted of our doing. 

" You have done me the honour, sir, of informing me that you 
have caused to be remitted to M. Lenoir several notes which I have 
sent you ; but I believed that you, sir, would have had the goodness 
to oblige me, who am more sensible than any one of the confidence 
which the king has in you. You are too just to see any harm in 
there being granted me so small a sum as has, to my knowledge, 
just been accorded to a person who is not so much to be pitied as 
T, nor with so much right. I cannot think who it is that has 

usurped the place due to my misfortunes I know that M. 

de Forge [intendant of the royal fisheries and forests, of which one 
or more of the Valois estates w^as part] is very much opposed to my 
having the estate which I ask by right ; still I cannot conceive that 
it matters to him whether I or another am tenant of the king. 
.... I have the honour of assuring you that I had yesterday only 
a single livre (franc), consequently I may well hope to improve my 

fortune It is you, sir, and your good faith that console 

me. I am very sensible that you are not unmindful of my mis- 
fortunes. I believe that you told me you would speak to 
M. de Vergennes. I have inquired if this matter is under his con- 
trol, and am assured it is on you alone that it depends. I recom- 
mend myself, therefore, to your kindness. ... It is not my in- 
tention to offer a menace to any one in declaring that I shall end 
by throwing myself at the feet of the king, and acquainting him 
with all my misfortunes. If you, sir, cannot lend me your assis- 
tance, I beg you to have the goodness to cause to be returned 
to me the documents which I have had the honour to send you. I 
shall see, on the day of the audience, whether it will not be possible 
for me to change my lot, and for my efforts to get me accorded the 
trifling sum I have asked. M. Lenoir sent me yesterday a safe con- 
duct, which M. Amelon requested of him on my behalf, for a large 
sum which I have owed these two years past, but which has not 
ye^t reduced me to sell my furniture, and thereby cause scandals 
which would assuredly have been aimed at me. Nevertheless, 



44 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

there is no help for it ; I shall be forced to make away with it so 
that I may live. God has not yet determined my fate, and, if 
Providence does not show pity on me, people will have to reproach 
themselves at seeing me come to a most miserable end. I am not 
ashamed to tell you, sir, that I am going out into the world to beg. 
I have borrowed from the Baron de Clugny, of the Ministry of 
Marine, three hundred livres to enable me to live, which, counting 
on your goodness, I have promised to return him in a week's time. 
No one, sir, has so much reason to complain as I have — myj 
husband without a post, my sister for a long time on my hands,] 
has, of course, contributed to my debts. People may do asj 
they please with me ; still, I say it is frightful to abandon a 
relation of a king, whom he has himself recognised, and who is in i 
the most frightful position. You will, doubtless, sir, consider mej 
very unreasonable, but I cannot keep myself from complaining, 
since not even the smallest grace is accorded me. I am no longer^ 
surprised that so many people are driven into crime, and I can 
say, moreover, that it is religion alone that keeps me from doing 

wrong 

" I have the honour to be, with all the attachment of which you 
are deserving. Sir, 

" Your very humble, very obedient Servant, 

" Countess de Yalois de la Motte. 
"Paris, May 16th, 1783."* 

Unless she desired to have a couple of strings to her bow, we 
can hardly imagine the " safe conduct" referred to in the foregoing 
letter being required by Madame de la Motte, since in her Memoirs 

* Unpublished Autograph Letter of the Countess de la Motte in the col- 
lection of M. Feuillet de Conches. This letter is endorsed ** M. Lenoir. The 
concession asked is impossible. Can they obtain other help ? 18th May, 
1783." M. Lenoir was lieutenant-general of police at this period, but — 
owing, it is said, to the despotic way in which he acted while occupying this 
position, coupled with his abject devotion to the resentments of the great, 
which induced the Duke de Nivernois to style him the Jfirst slave in the 
kingdom — he was subsequently rewarded with the post of president of the 
administration of finances, and eventually with the more lucrative one of 
librarian to the king, a position for which it may be supposed his antecedents 
had hardly qualified him. 



THE cardinal's RELATIONS WITH THE COUNTESS. 45 

she tells us that the Countess de Provence interested herself to pro- 
I cure for her an arret de surseance, or writ under the king's sign 
manual, which not only protected the person named in it from 
arrest, but saved him or her from being harassed by suits at law 
as well. Madame de la Motte at the same time obtained a " safe 
conduct" for her husband, the count. Convenient documents, 
both of these, for individuals of their stamp. The count's " safe 
conduct" was not procured before there was pressing need of it, 
[for at this time the ex-gendarme was hiding from his creditors in 
a little auherge at Brie-Comte-Robert,! famous now-a-days for its 
I beautiful roses, a score or so of miles from Paris on the Lyons road, 
:and close to the Abbey of Jarcy, where his sister-in-law. Made- 
moiselle de Saint-Remi, afterwards went to reside. The chances 
jare that he had already lost his post in the Count d'Artpis' body- 
guard, although Madame de la Motte pretended that the countess 
was her protectress, and that the count used to notice her " in a 
iparticular manner" whenever she went to church at Versailles— a 
notice which, by the way, it has been insinuated, subsequently 
jripened into a too familiar intimacy.^ 

The furniture which, on the guarantee of a Jew, the De la Mottes 
eventually succeeded in obtaining for their new appartement in the 
Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, was far from splendid, and it was, more- 
ker, every now and then being sent to some neighbour, notably to 
purlandeux, the count's barber, to save it from being taken in 
|Jxecution,3 and not unfrequently to the pawnbrokers to provide the 
•amily with meat and bread.^ The countess of course kept up 
jier intimacy with the cardinal, on whose liberality, or call it 
•harity if you will, she could to a certain extent depend. If we 
j^elieve the cardinal's statement, the donations he bestowed upon 
jier at this period were far from being of that prodigal character 
jyhich the countess afterwards asserted them to have been, and 
/ere more consistent with his character of priest and grand almoner 
»han that of lover and man of gallantry, which latter Madame de 

" Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte." 
j = "Memoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour," etc., par Eetaux de 
I lUette, p. 8, and "Anecdotes du E6gne de Louis XVI." vol. i. p. 367. 
, 3 "Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte." 
\^ See post, p. 47, 



46 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

la Motte openly insinuated was the nature of the cardinal's then 
relations towards her. The cardinal asserted that four or five louis 
at a time, and at irregular and somewhat distant intervals,, was the 
extent of the benefactions she received from him ; but he was forced 
to admit that he had given her twenty-five louis on one occasion, 
and it eventually oozed out that he had also made himself person- 
ally liable to a Jew money-lender of Nancy for five thousand five 
hundred livres (francs), a debt contracted by the count when he 
was stationed at Lun^ville, and which amount the cardinal of 
course eventually had to pay.^ These facts would seem to prove 
that at this period the countess had succeeded in ensnaring her 
victim, preparatory to making him, as she afterwards did, her dupe 
and then her instrument. 

Madame de la Motte was very much in the habit of exaggerating 
the amount of the charitable gifts bestowed upon her by members 
of the royal family and some few of the French nobility, and even 
claimed to have received certain apocryphal sums from persons of 
distinction who never once assisted her. The reason for this will 
be apparent enough in the course of our narrative. In the 
memorials and reports published in 1786 are various disclaimers on 
the part of people of rank, among others the Duke de Chartres 
(afterwards Orleans Egalite), the Duke' de Penthievre, the Duke 
de Choiseul, the contrdleur-ge'niral, &c., shov/ing that these ex- 
ceedingly liberal benefactors, as the countess had made them out 
to be, had either given nothing at all, or else that a huge disparity 
existed between the sum really given and the amount pretended to 
have been received. Her friend, Beugnot, moreover, speaks at 
this period of sundry treats of an evening on the Boulevards, con- 
sisting of cakes and beer, a beverage for which she had a particular 
liking, while, as regards cakes, she would devour two or three dozen 
of these at a sitting, making it evident that she had dined but 
lightly on these occasions, if, indeed, she had dined at all.^ She, 
however, most astonished Beugnot by the voracity of her appetite 
when she dined with him, as she every now and then did, at the| 
" Cadran hleu" a noted tavern in the Champs Ely sees, whence on' 



* ' Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte, " 
"Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 21. 



i 



THE DB LA MOTTES MAKE SOME DISPLAY. 47 

a memorable occasion, some eight years later, five hundred and 
odd Marseillais, who had marched up to Paris in defence of their 
fellow "patriots," and whose march inspired the composition of 
the world-renowned Marseillaise hymn, rushed forth on the grena- 
diers of the Filles Saint-Thomas section, and drove them pell-mell 
over the drawbridge of the Tuileries. Other friends of the coun- 
tess's tell, too, of frequent loans of ten, fifteen, or twenty livres at 
a time, all of which is tolerable evidence of semi-starvation and 
penury rather than of an abundance or even a sufficiency of means. 

Spite, nevertheless, of the limited nature of their resources, there 
is no doubt but that when the De la Mottes had regularly settled 
down in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, they made pretensions to 
something like display. They borrowed, for instance, a service of 
silver plate of a friend — a M. de Vieilleville ; and according to the 
countess's own statement, M. de Calonne, at one of the interviews 
she succeeded in obtaining with him just after his appointment to 
tlie office of controleur-general, plainly told her that she was only 
" shamming poverty," and commenced twitting her respecting her 
hotel at Paris, her cabriolet, her coach, her travelling-carriage, and 
her servants in livery. To convince Calonne that whatever might 
be her style of living, she was nevertheless in great pecuniary 
difficulties, she took him one day the tickets for numerous articles 
of furniture pledged by her at the Mont de Piete, and by this ruse 
succeeded in securing some small amount of official sympathy, 
which developed itself in a gift of six hundred livres from the 
royal treasury, on the express condition, however, that she was to 
make no further appeals. 

Soon after the countess had become regularly resident in the 
Eue JSTeuve-Saint-Gilles, she was a frequent attendant at mass at a 
convent of Minimes, on the opposite side of the way, which has 
long since been demolished, and barracks for gendarmerie erected 
on its site, but the remembrance of which is still preserved in the 
nomenclature of several of the adjacent streets. A certain Father 
Loth having his eye upon so interesting an addition to the common 
fold, made her an off'er of a key by means of which she might let 
herself into the chapel to the ten o'clock mass, attended, as he ex- 
plained to her, only by persons of her own condition. The countess 
accepted the offer, and a kind of acquaintanceship sprang up be- 



48 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NFCKLACE. 

tween Father Loth and her, which resulted in the former becom- 
ing a constant visitor at the De la Mottes, and insinuating himself 
into the confidence of the family; and subsequently, when brighter 
days dawned upon them, officiating as a sort of steward of their 
household. 

Although the countess went constantly to Versailles, in the hope 
of obtaining by some lucky chance access to the queen, she seems 
to have been baffled in all her efforts. She had scraped acquaint- 
ance with Desclos, one of the queen's pages, at a man-midwife's at 
Versailles,^ and was on gossiping terms with the gate-keeper of 
the Little Trianon, but could make no further advance at court, 
until by a lucky chance she one day succeeded in penetrating into 
the apartments of one of the princesses. Here, whilst waiting 
among other visitors for her turn to be introduced, she suddenly 
fell down like a person fainting from weakness, and otherwise ex- 
hibited symptoms of great suffering. Her poverty being known, 
there was instantly a rumour afoot that sheer hunger was the 
cause of this debility. The incident produced considerable excite- 
ment in the court circle, and news reaching the ears of the Countess 
de Provence that a lady of rank had fainted in the salle cVattente, 
from lack of sustenance, she flew to her assistance, and after treat- 
ing her with all the tenderness that humanity dictated, gave her 
some twelve or fifteen louis to relieve her necessities. The countess, 
much affected by the occurrence, is said to have mentioned it on 
the following day to Marie-Antoinette, who was about to yield to 
the impression it made upon her sensibility ; but Louis XVL, who 
had received so many of Madame de la Motte's petitions, and had 
been sufficiently bored thereby, had conceived a strong prejudice 
against both her and her pretensions, and pronounced her SAVoon 
to be a mere ruse to extort money. The result was that the queen 
closed her purse-strings, and Madame de la Motte took little or 
nothing by her move. Most persons in her situation, after this 
signal failure, would have considered their struggle for court 
favour as fairly concluded, but it was far from being so with her. 
She was one of those indomitable spirits gifted with a pertinacity 
which no mere rebuff could check, no disappointment discourage. 

' *' Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 17. 



THE COUNTESS APPEALS TO CALONNE AND MADAME DUBARRY. 49 

For some time past the countess had made a point of laying 
siege to one controller-general after another — first to M. Joly de 
Flemy, then to M. d'Ormesson, and finally to M. de Calonne, in 
whose antechamber she was a constant attendant, and whom she 
so pestered with her petitions and memorials and personal appeals 
for relief, spite of the understanding come to when the six hundred 
livres were given to her, that she became at length a kind of 
terror to the minister, who showered gold around him with easy 
facility from a bankrupt exchequer, while, as a courtier said, " All 
the world held out its hand, but I held out my hat." To rid him- 
self of the countess's importunities, and urged by Madame Elisabeth 
and the Countess de Provence (who since the fainting scene had 
taken some kind of interest in her) to do something towards her 
relief, M. de Calonne obtained an augmentation of seven hundred 
livres (twenty-eight pounds) to the De la Motte pension. Instead, 
however, of feeling in any degree grateful for this act of favour, 
the countess tells us that when the minister communicated the 
intelligence to her she indignantly refused this ''pitiful addition," 
as she called it, " to her income." Visions of the restoration of 
the Essoyes, Fontette and Verpiliere estates had been floating 
before her eyes, and in the heat of her passion she exclaimed, " I 
will oblige you, sir, to speak of my demands to the king. Tell 
him, sir, that I will fix myself in this house " — the palace of Ver- 
sailles — "until he thinks proper to provide me with another 
home." And the irate countess in accordance with her threat did 
actually remain for several hours, but at last took her departure, 
because, as she naively remarks, her further stay there " would 
have answered no purpose." ^ 

It must have been about this period that the countess, harassed 
by pecuniary difficulties, and determined to exhaust every chance 
of relief that suggested itself, ventured upon an appeal to Madame 
Dubarry, the late king's banished mistress, who clung as close upon 
the skirts of the Court as she dared do, residing in her charming 
pavilion at Louveciennes, within eye-shot of Versailles. Thither 
Madame de la Motte drove over one day ostensibly to offer herself 
as dame de compagnie to the dowager queen, as she used ironically 



Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 261. 
D 



50 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

to style the once aH-powerful favourite of Louis the Well-Beloved ; 
but Madame Dubarry, judging from the absurd pretensions she put 
forward with regard to her name and birth, thought her little fitted 
for the post she sought to fi:ll, and told her that she was not at that 
moment in want of a companion, adding sarcastically that if she 
were, she was not great lady enough to engage one of so high a 
quality as a descendant of the house of Valois. Nothing discon- 
certed, the countess called a second time a few days afterwards, and 
made a pitiable appeal to the Dubarry to support her claims at 
court, shedding floods of tears as she spoke. But as soon as her 
back was turned, *' La Faiblesse," as Marie-Antoinette was accus- 
tomed to style the Dubarry, whose heart was none of the most 
susceptible, bored by the countess's melting display, and caring not 
a straw for the house of Valois or any of its bastard descendants, 
flung both petition and memoir, which the countess had presented 
to her, into the fire.^ 

The countess now addressed herself to the well-known favourite 
of Marie- Antoinette, the Duchess de Polignac, whose influence over 
her royal mistress, whenever she chose to exercise it, was believed 
to be supreme. The duchess, however, got rid of her once for all 
with this freezing reply : " Madame the duchess is too much en- 
gaged for other persons to oblige Madame de la Motte in any claim 
which she may have to make of the king or the queen, who are 
already fatigued with numberless applications." The descendant 
of the house of Valois was cut to the quick at the treatment she 
received at the hands of " this imperious woman, whose haughty 
demeanour sufiiciently characterises her grovelling extraction. Was 
this the woman," she exclaims, " whom in my humble station of 
mantua-maker's apprentice I had so frequently waited upon from 
Madame Boussel's to obtain payment, and who then instead of 
money could only pay me with courtesy and fair promises ? Is this 
she who before the smile of royal favour no tradesman chose to 
trust, and even her mantua-maker refused to work for any longer, 
and who had not even a dress in which she could be presented 
at Court r' 2 



Deposition de la Comtesse du Barry. 

"Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol.i. p. 205, etseq. 



.THE COUNTESS DETERMINES ON SUICIDE. 51 

Sick at heart, weary almost unto death, the wretched woman saw 
no escape from the pecuniary embarrassments that threatened to 
overwhelm her, except in suicide. Providing herself, she tells us, 
with a couple of loaded pistols she bent her steps towards a wood 
about a league distant from Versailles, and passmg through the 
park, came to a large and deep pit, which had formerly been a 
stone quarry. Here she prepared to carry her resolution into effect, 
and had placed one of the pistols to her right ear when thoughts 
of her husband stayed her hand. Flinging herself on the ground 
she wept long and bitterly, and then offered up a fervent prayer. 
On becoming more calm she returned home, still however mourning 
her unhappy fate.^ 

* "Life of the Countess de laMotte, by herself," vol. i. p. 275. 



52 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



VIIT. 

1781-1783. 

THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN. — STILL NOT SOLD. 

While the events narrated in the last chapter have been tran- 
spiring, let us see how it has fared with our friends the crown 
jewellers and their Diamond Necklace. M. Bassenge, after scour- 
ing Europe through, and ascending and descending principal and 
back staircases innumerable, and dancing wearying attendance in 
court saloons and antechambers, has returned home without effect- 
ing a sale. " Not a crowned head of them can spare the eighty 
thousand pounds. The age of Chivalry is gone, and that of 
Bankruptcy is come. A dull deep-presaging movement rocks all 
thrones : Bankruptcy is beating down the gate, and no chancellor 
can barricade her out. She will enter, and the shoreless fire-lava 
of Democracy is at her back. Well may kings a second time * sit 
still with awful eye,' and think of far other things than neck- 
laces." ^ 

Bassenge's mission having been without result, let us turn to M. 
Bohmer, and see what kind of luck has attended his efforts. On 
the 22nd of October, 1781, the Queen of France gave birth to a 
dauphin. Bohmer, who felt this to be a favourable opportunity 
for him to renew his application, flew to the palace with his casket 
under his arm, and saw the king, at that moment the happiest 
man in the land. Louis XVL received the jeweller with much 
condescension, and taking the casket from him, carried it to the 
queen, telling her, with animated looks, that he had got a present 
for her. But Marie-Antoinette had no sooner recognised the 
gorgeous gem which she had formerly rejected than she refused 
to receive it, even at the king's hands ; nor could the most earnest 
solicitations on his part abate in the smallest degree the feeling of 

* Carlyle's "Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 11. 



53 

antipathy with which, guided by her prophetic instincts, she seems 
to have regarded the fatal jewel. 

" Is it," asked she, " that Bohmer may take girls covered with 
diamonds to the opera, that you would pay him for his folly in 
manufacturing this Necklace ? " 

While uttering these words the queen was greatly excited. Her 
nurse felt her pulse, and finding it very high begged the king not 
to insist further. Louis XVI. withdrew completely disconcerted.^ 

Now Bohmer, the crown jeweller, was a Saxon, and we all know 
that the Saxons are a persevering race who do not readily desist 
from a pursuit. Besides, he had gained a step; the king had as good 
as sanctioned the purchase ; he was won over, and in due time the 
queen might be brought to relent and consent to become the pos- 
sessor of the most splendid set of brilliants in the world. More- 
over she was known at one time to have entertained a woman's 
partiality for costly jewels. What could be the reason of her 
present antipathy 1 Was it natural in one so young and hand- 
some 1 Was it consistent ? Was it, indeed, sincere ? 

This persecution of Marie- Antoinette, which had begun in 1774, 
was continued for ten years; and every time the palace guns 
announced a new accouchement the indefatigable Bohmer, his casket 
under his arm, was the first to carry his loyal congratulations to 
the feet of his sovereign. In due time the crown jeweller became 
noted for this kind of loyalty, so that whenever he was met with in 
the streets of Versailles, certain wags used to point him out and ask 
each other, " Serait-ce la Heine qui accouche 2 " 

Madame Campan, in her well-known work, assures us that this 
persistent Saxon was for a long time the plague of the queen's life. 
She relates, among other instances of Bohmer's persecution, that 
he one day presented himself before her majesty, who had the 
young princess her daughter with her at the time, in a state of 
unusual excitement. Throwing himself at the queen's feet, he 
burst into tears, and exclaimed that he could put off his creditors no 
longer, that he was a ruined man unless she took compassion on 
him and became the purchaser of his Necklace, and that if she re- 
jected his appeal he would throw himself into the Seine, and so 

"^ ** Mdmoires de Mdlle. Bertin," p. 92. 



54 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

put an end to his misery. The queen reproved him mildly for his 
rash threat, but at the same time told him that if he were madman 
enough to put an end to his existence, it would not be she who was 
responsible for the misfortune. She reminded him that she had 
not given the order for the jewel, and advised him to extricate 
himself from his difficulties by taking the Necklace to pieces and 
disposing of the diamonds piecemeal.^ 

Mademoiselle Bertin, the queen's milliner, asserts that at the 
time she was engaged in preparing the wedding trousseau of the 
bride of the Infant of Portugal, M. de Souza, the Portuguese 
ambassador, confided to her that he was commissioned by his sove- 
reign to buy for the future Infanta the most magnificent present 
which could be met with in all Paris, and that he had decided 
upon purchasing the crown jewellers' Diamond Necklace. Made- 
moiselle Bertin mentioned the circumstance to Marie-Antoinette 
the following day, while engaged with her at her toilette. 

" I am very glad of it," observed the queen. " I shall send for 
Bohmer, and will certainly thank M. de Souza for having relieved 
me of this hateful Necklace." 

When Bohmer entered, the queen took up a book and read for 
some minutes before speaking, as her habit was when she wished 
to evince her displeasure, which, on this occasion, must have been 
the result either of inexplicable caprice or feminine jealousy at a 
foreign princess becoming the possessor of that jewel to which the 
negotiations and travels of Bohmer and Bassenge had given a kind 
of European celebrity, and which had caused such a sensation 
among queens and women. At length, laying down her book and 
casting on Bohmer a severe glance, she observed: 

" I am very glad to hear, sir, that you have sold your Necklace." 

"My Necklace, madame !" replied the astonished Bohmer. 

" Yes, your Necklace, that M. de Souza is about to send to 
Lisbon." 

Bohmer having given an emphatic denial to the story, the queen, 
we are told, cast on Mdlle. Bertin a withering look as if to reproach 
her for having needlessly alarmed her. 

There was a reception that day, and when M. de Souza appeared, 

* ** Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 5, 6. 



AFTER ALL. 55 

the queen, contrary to all the rules of court etiquette, went straight 
up to him and said, briskly : 

" I have to inform you, M. de Souza, that you will not have the 
Necklace ; it is sold." 

M. de Souza appearing astonished, 

" You will not have it, sir," continued she, in a tone of triumph. 
" I am sorry for it." Saying which she returned to her ladies.^ 

Thus matters stood at the close of 1783, ten years after the 
order for this ill-fated jewel had been given by the infatuated lover 
of Madame Dubarry. Although all France was at this time wildly 
rejoicing over the recently concluded peace between France and 
England, there was gloom and depression at the Grand Balcony in 
the Rue Vendome, for creditors were still urgent and even threat- 
ening, and the question again arose : *' What is now to be done? " 

*«*M^moires de Mdlle. Bertin," p. 99, et seq. Certain French biblio- 
graphers have pronounced these memoirs to be forged. In quoting from 
them, however, we are only following in the steps of M. Louis Blanc, who we 
presume considers them authentic. From the ** M^moire " forwarded to the 
queen by the crown jewellers on August, 12, 1785, it would appear that 
negotiations for the sale of the Necklace had been opened with the Court of 
Spain and not the Court of Portugal, as stated in the Bertin "Mdmoires," 
which circumstance certainly goes a good way to impugn the authenticity 
of the latter. 

This celebrated milliner, whose name and fame have become historic, 
was, it seems, employed by the Spanish court, and went to Madrid in per- 
formance of her duties as milliner to the Spanish crown. When, preparatory 
to her return to France, she presented her account to the Minister of 
Finance for settlement, that functionary, who had not the slightest 
knowledge of the details of her important art, strongly objected to the 
amount which she claimed— some 8000?. The king, equally astonished with 
his minister, proceeded to settle with the indignant milliner, by giving 
orders to his char ge-d' affaires in Paris to have the account taxed. Mdlle. 
Bertin protested that her account would not admit of reduction, and said 
that Spain was very far from being civilized, since there was all this cavil- 
ling about such an essential matter as articles of feminine attire. Marie- 
Antoinette, it seems, interfered in her milliner's favour, and eventually the 
account was settled without abatement. —See *' Correspondance Secrete 
In6dite sur Louis XVL, Marie-Antoinette," etc. vol. ii. p. 21. 



56 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



IX. 

1784. 

SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN. AT VERSAILLES AND 

LITTLE TRIANON. 

In the preceding chapters we have measured the period between 
the year 1756, when Jeanne de Saint-Remi, now Countess de la 
Motte of her own creation, was bom, and the close of the year 
1783, when she had reached the age of twenty-seven years. We 
have witnessed the destitution of her early days, the dependence 
of her youth on the kind bounty of a noble benefactress, and the 
career of adventure and precarious means suddenly plunged into 
to avoid a life of religious seclusion. We have seen her making 
her escape from flagrant shame by an improvident marriage ; have 
seen the opening of her conjugal life darkened by a new term of 
penury and privation, mitigated only by a system , of constant 
appeals for charity. We have also seen that a long and patient 
probation in the same course had proved barren and abortive in 
the end, her condition being then precisely the same as it was in 
the beginning. We can readily conceive that her name and her 
pretensions had at length come to be regarded as little else than a 
by- word and a nuisance, and that the time was at hand when the 
former would have no other influence beyond provoking indigna- 
tion and contempt. 

The family resources proved so far insufficient, that early in the 
year 1784 household goods and wearing apparel were alike in 
pawn at the Mont de Piete, which is hardly to be wondered at, as 
.the winter was one of unprecedented severity. Heavy and con- 
stant falls of snow rendered any kind of traffic through the streets 
of Paris impracticable. The Seine, too, was frozen over, so that 
the transport of provisions and firewood to the capital was entirely 
stopped.^ The times were of the hardest : the winter extended far 

* ' * Louis XVI. " par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 1, et seq. 



THE COUNTESS PRETENDS TO COURT INFLUENCE. 57 

into the year, and in the month of April the countess solicited and 
obtained permission to alienate her own and her brother's pension 
— the sister, we presume, was obstinate, and would not dispose of 
hers, hence her being sent adrift to shift for herself, and becoming 
an inmate of the Abbey of Jarcy — to a goldsmith and money- 
lender, named Grenier, for the sum of nine thousand livres/ This 
amount, however, was insufficient to liquidate the whole of their 
debts, and at midsummer the countess was forced to borrow three 
hundred livres from Father Loth to pay her quarter's rent.^ The 
two pensions utterly gone, beggary and open vagrancy loom in the 
distance, for the cardinal's gifts, however handsome they may have 
been at this period, go but a small way now that ever-increasing 
debt is supplemented by habitual extravagance. In a few months 
more the wretched adventurers will be forced to quit their 
"spacious appartement^^ in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, and go 
forth into the streets and highways, and in the name of Valois 
again implore charity of the passing stranger. What remedy — • 
what desperate remedy could be devised to prevent this ? 

The countess's interview with the Countess de Provence, after 
the fainting scene, had made some little noise, and reports were 
spread to the effect that Madame Elisabeth, the king's sister, had 
since received her on several occasions, and had promised to 
support her claim for the recovery of the Yalois estates, and to 
recommend her case again to the queen. We have no means of 
judging whether these reports were true, but as Madams Campan 
admits Madame Elisabeth to have been the countess's "pro- 
tectress," there was in all probability some real foundation for 
them. Shortly afterwards, however, other reports, which were un- 
doubted fabrications, got into circulation. The purport of these 
was, that Madame de la Motte had been honoured by the notice of 
Marie-Antoinette, that she was received privately at the Petit 
Trianon, and was rising rapidly in the royal favour. To give an 
air of probability to this assertion, the countess, who had contrived 
to scrape acquaintance with the gatekeeper of the Trianon, 
managed to be seen occasionally stealing out from thence, as 

* * • M^moire pour le Cardinal de Rohan, " p. 11 ; and Deposition de Grenier. 

* Deposition du P6re Loth. 



58 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

though, returning from one of these pretended interviews with 
royalty. 

No sooner did it get bruited abroad that the Countess de la 
Motte had credit at court than she was applied to by that busy 
and motley group of suitors — some of them in search of places and 
appointments, others in quest of patronage for new inventions, or 
on the look-out for opportunities to submit new schemes of taxa- 
tion and finance, and others again seeking redress of real or fancied 
grievances — who gather together in the vicinage of royalty. The 
daring woman saw her chance, and entering boldly on a career of 
imposture, began to traffic on a credit that had no foundation, and 
to sell an influence which she could not exercise. This new voca- 
tion bid fair to prove a much readier source of emolument than 
her state petitions for relief. People came to her of their own 
accord, waited in her ante-chamber for an interview, conjured and 
supplicated her to lend them her protection, and in the meantime 
to permit them to show their gratitude by anticipation, and in a 
substantial form. 

In this new line of business she was assisted by an old acquaint- 
ance and former comrade of her husband's in the gendarmerie, one 
Retaux de Yillette, son of a late director-general of excise at 
Lyons, and at this time about thirty years of age. Villette 
left Lyons when a lad, and accompanied his mother to 
Troyes, where he completed his education. His sister having 
married a captain of artillery, and being himself inclined to 
a military career, he followed his brother-in-law to the schools of 
Douai and Bapaume, and when this latter establishment was sup- 
pressed, entered the gendarmerie, where he formed a sort of in- 
timacy with M. de la Motte — an intimacy which was afterwards 
renewed at Bar-sur-Aube, whither his mother had removed from 
the neighbouring town of Troyes. Villette having exhausted the 
paternal patrimony, had come to Paris to push his fortunes. His 
ambition was to obtain a sub-lieutenancy in the marshalsea, still 
he was not averse to turning his hand to anything that offered 
itself He was not deficient in talent, and had a certain facility of 
expression ; for he wrote smartish articles in the Gazette, could 
compose pleasing enough verses, and was a very fair musician.^ 

* " Marie- Antoinette et le Proems du Collier," par E. Campardon, p. 44. 



THE QUEEN" DEIGNS TO EVINCE SOME INTEREST. 59 

Nevertheless he was one of those indolent, careless men, without 
the slightest forethought, who cannot follow any regular calling, 
because they are only stirred into activity by sudden caprices, and 
who too often serve no other purpose beyond replenishing the 
world's stock of rascaldom, and doing their best to save it from 
dying out. Finding that he was a suppliant for court favour, 
Madame de la Motte first of all persuaded him that she could ad- 
vance his interests, then that she would procure for him some 
better post than a sub-lieutenancy in the marshalsea, arfd finally 
engaged him as her secretary, and by dint of " her piquant face, 
her bright and piercing eyes, her white and transparent skin, her 
fine teeth, her enchanting Smile, her pretty hand and little foot, 
her graceful manner, and natural wit," soon enrolled him as one of 
her lovers.^ 

We will here let the countess give her own account of her pre- 
tended intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, an intimacy which it is 
impossible to believe in for a single moment, since those who lived 
in the queen's service and society were unanimous in maintaining 
that the countess was never once admitted to the queen's presence, 
nor seen in the company of any lady of her court. 

" One day," she observes, " as I was paying my court to Madame 
(the Countess de Provence), I was attacked with a sudden indis- 
position (the fainting fit of which we have already spoken), which 
made some noise at the palace ; the. queen, having become ac- 
quainted with the incident, deigned to evince some interest in me ; 
her majesty even sent for Madame Patri, the principal femme de 
chamhre of Madame, to ascertain the particulars. 

"Nothing can escape the eyes of courtiers. They remarked 
from that hour, that her majesty always distinguished me by a 
gracious look, whenever I appeared in her presence. The cardinal 
(de Rohan) surpassed everybody in giving full rein to his conjec- 
tures. 

"As I had received his benefits, the most natural gratitude 
linked me to his fate ... for him I had no secrets ; he had none 
for me . . . his ambition was to be prime minister, mine to be a 
lady of influence at Fontette. ... 

"^ Vide •* M^moires du Comte Beugnot " and Villette's "Mdmoire 
Histbrique. " 



60 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" Nothing could equal the astonishment into which I was thrown 
one day, when having placed myself in the line of the queen's 
passage, her majesty condescended to honour me with one of those 
smiles which are so hard to be resisted. I remember that the next 
moment, having chanced to raise my eyes towards him (the cardi- 
nal), I saw his own sparkle with delight. * Do you know, countess,' 
said he, ' that my fortune is made ? it is in your hands along with 
your own.' ... He told me I ought not to hesitate to throw my- 
self at the queen's feet on the 2nd of February, during the pro- 
cession of the blue ribbons (the order of the Holy Ghost). . . . 
Accustomed to be guided entirely by him, I promised to do what 
he enjoined me. 

" The important day arrived ... I went to the palace in full 
dress, and waited in one of the saloons for the return of the pro- 
cession. When the queen was passing, I flung myself at her feet, 
and delivering my petition, said to her, in a few words, that I was 
descended from the house of Yalois ; that as such I had been ac- 
knowledged by the king ; that the fortune of my ancestors not 
having been transmitted to me along with their title, I had no other 
resource than the king's munificence ; that having found every one 
of the avenues leading to her majesty unrelentingly closed against 
me, despair had driven me at last to take the present step. 

" The queen raised me up with kindness, took my petition, and, 
perceiving that I trembled, deigned to bid me be of good cheer. 
She then passed on, telling me to be at ease, and assured me that 
due attention should be paid to the object of my request." 

In the first private interview she pretends to have had with the 
queen, the countess relates that Marie- Antoinette said to her : 

" 'I have read your memorial, the object of which is to urge the 
minister to act and bestir himself with respect to the property 
which belonged to your house. Having some private reasons not 
to second your views ... I cannot reconcile the desire I may have 
to serve you publicly, with the inclination I feel to see you in pri- 
vate . . . but I shall still be able to render you indirectly the 
services you wish to obtain from me.' . . . Her majesty concluded 
by presenting me with a purse." ^ 

* " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," pp. 11, 13. 



' THE QUEEN NEVER SAW THE COUNTESS. 61 

A few days afterwards, she tells us, she was summoned to repair 
to the Little Trianon, between eleven and twelve o'clock at night ! 
when she received fresh proofs of the queen's generosity. " She 
presented me at parting," says the countess, " with a pocket-book 
containing ten thousand livres (francs) on the caisse d'escompte, and 
concluded by saying : * We shall meet again.' "^ Madame de la 
Motte then goes on to state that it is needless to tire the reader 
with a repetition of the frequent interviews she had with the queen, 
of whose munificence on these occasions she received numerous 
proofs. " The Cardinal de Kohan," she says, " marked her grow- 
ing favour, and insisting that his fortune was in her hands, con- 
jured her to let no opportunity slip of mentioning his name to his 
sovereign." 

Let us turn now to the other side of the picture, and see what 
is said by persons likely to be well informed, as well as by Marie- 
Antoinette herself, respecting this pretended intimacy. 

Lacretelle, whose truth and honesty are beyond question, says 
*'the Countess de Valois never had the least access to this 
princess," and that " one cannot read this libel (the countess's 
Memoirs) without being convinced that the queen never had any 
kind of communication with these creatures, whose presence would 
have defiled the throne."^ 

The Baron de Besenval speaks of the countess in his Memoirs 
as "one of tho*3e creatures who live by intrigue and the sale of 
their charms."* Was such a person likely to have been received 
privately at the Trianon 1 The Baron de Besenval was a regular 
visitor there himself, and would have heard of this strange and 
familiar intercourse if it had ever existed. 

What does Madame Campan, first femme de chamhre to the 
queen, who enjoyed the confidence of her royal mistress, and was, 
moreover, constantly in her company, and who, biased though she 
may seem to be in her favour, invariably speaks what she believes to 
be the truth — what does she say respecting this tissue of invention? 

" Neither the queen herself, nor any lady about her, ever had 

' " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 29L 
^ "L'Histoire de France pendant le XVIIP siecle," par C. Lacretelle, 
vol. vi. pp. 114, 120. 
3 "M^moires du Baron de Besenval," vol. iii. p. 122. 



62 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the slightest connection with the swindler, and during her prose- 
cution she could only point out one of the queen's servants (a man 
named Declos or Leclos), a page of the queen's chamber, to whom 
she pretended she had delivered Bohmer's Necklace . . . Declos,^ 
on being confronted with the woman La Motte, proved that she 
had never seen him but once, which was at the house of the wdfe 
of a surgeon-accoucher at Versailles, and that she had not given 
him the Necklace." Madame Campan further states that the 
countess " had never even been able to make her way into the 
room appropriated to the queen's women." The same lady also 
furnishes this additional piece of testimony : 

" The queen," she says, " in vain endeavoured to call to mind the 
features of this person, whom she had so often heard spoken of as 
an intriguing woman, who came frequently on Sundays to the 
gallery at Versailles ; and at the time when all France was taken 
up with the prosecution against the cardinal, and the portrait of 
the Countess de la Motte- Valois was publicly sold, her majesty de- 
sired me one day when I was going to Paris to buy her the en- 
graving, which was said to be a tolerable likeness, that she might 
ascertain whether she could recollect in it any person whom she 
had seen in the gallery."^ 

Marie- Antoinette herself, when questioned by Louis XVI. on the 
subject of this intimate acquaintance, assured the king that she 
had never seen the woman. In a few simple words she repeats her 
denial when confronted with the Cardinal de Rohan, immediately 
preceding his arrest. And in a private letter to her sister, written 
at a time when the affair of the Diamond Necklace was making a 
great noise throughout Europe, Marie-Antoinette thus denies all 
previous knowledge of her pretended confidant : 

" I have never seen this woman La Motte ; it seems she is an 
adventuress of the lowest class, with a good address and a bold 
air ; she has been seen two or three times on the back staircase of 
the Cour des Princes ; this is a scheme agreed on to deceive her 
dupes and to spread the belief that she is received in my closet. 
The Duke de Nivernois on this occasion told me that an ad- 

* His depositions are signed ** Desclaux." 

= "Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 17, 
19, 291. 



THE QUEEN DEN1E3 KNOWING THE COUNTESS. 63 

venturess from Paris had made her fortune in the days of Madame 
de Maintenon by seating herself twice a week on the stairs ; one 
day she found the drawing-room of that lady open ; she went in, 
and seeing no one near she walked up to the balcony over the 
Place d'Armes, thus proclaiming to every one that she was in 
favour with Madame de Maintenon. We are surrounded in this 
place by persons of that class." -^ 

Again, at the very last, only a few hours before her head was 
severed from her body by the guillotine, she still firmly repudiated 
all knowledge of any such individual. Let us refer to the report 
in the Moniteur of the " Proces de Marie- Antoinette,^' and see what 
transpired in reference to the matter. 

" The president to the accused : Was it not at the Little Trianon 
that you first met with the woman La Motte ? 

" The accused : I never once saw her. 

" The president : Was she not your victim in the business of the 
famous Necklace ? 

" The accused : She could not have been, since she was unknown 
to me. 

" The president : So then you persist in denying that you were 
acquainted with her 1 

" The accused : Mine is not a system of denial ; what I have 
said is the truth, and that I will persist in." 

Of course it was the truth ; had it not been, Fouquier Tinville 
had abundant means of proving the contrary ; all France in these 
days was overrun with spies and informers. The public accuser 
had really no facts to allege against the prisoner in regard to 
Madame de la Motte, and confessed he had not when ordered to 
bring the queen to trial. Had there been the least particle of 
evidence to prove Marie-Antoinette's intimacy with so abandoned 
a woman, the attorney-general of the Revolutionary Tribunal 
would have been only too glad to have brought it forward. He 
had not far to go, for among the witnesses actually produced were 
the Count d'Estaing, formerly in command at Versailles, who 
knew both the queen and the countess, and was a frequent dinner- 

' " Correspondance In^dite de Marie- Antoinette/' par Comte P. Vogt 
d'Hunolstein, p. 141. 



64 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

guest of the latter in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles; and Renee S^vin, 
for six years under-femme de chambre to Marie-Antoinette, yet to 
neither of these did he put a single question upon the subject. 
Again, there was Reine Millot, another old servant at Versailles, 
" bonne citoyenne^ excellente patriate,'' who did her best to sacrifice 
her unhappy mistress, deposing that the Count de Coigny had told 
her that the queen had sent two hundred million francs to her 
brother, the Emperor Joseph, to enable him to make war upon the 
Turks, and that she would end by ruining France ; and further, 
that she knew from different people that the queen had conceived 
the design of assassinating the Duke d'Orleans, which when the 
king heard of, he ordered her to be immediately searched, and two 
pistols being found upon her, he commanded her to remain in her 
own apartment for the space of fifteen days. ^ A witness such as 
this would have been only too eager to repeat all the scandal 
current at Versailles respecting the Countess de la Motte and the 
queen. Moreover, Count de la Motte himself was known to be 
living at Bar-sur-Aube at the time of the queen's trial, and could 
have been readily enough produced, only Fouquier Tinville was 
perfectly well aware that he could depose to nothing in the 
slightest degree incriminatory of her whose death, though already 
determined on, the revolutionary party would have been glad 
enough to have justified on such a poor pretence even as complicity 
in the Necklace fraud. 

' "Proems de Marie-Antoinette,'' Paris, 1865, pp. 40, 64, 65. 



THE CARDINAL SEEKS THE FAVOUR OF THE COUNTESS. 65 



X. 

1772-1774. 

HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, PRINCE- 
BISHOP LOUIS-RENB-EDOUARD DE ROHAN. 

Among the tribe of solicitors who put faith in the report of Madame 
de la Motte's intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, and sought to turn 
it to their own advantage, certainly by far the most sanguine of 
them all, was her " friend " and benefactor, Louis-Ren6-Edouard de 
Rohan, Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, Bishop and Prince of 
Strasbourg, Prince of Hildesheim, Landgrave of Alsace, Grand Al- 
moner of France, Commander of the Order of the Holy Ghost, 
Commendator of St. Waast dArras, Superior-general of the Royal 
Hospital of the Quinze-Yingts, Abbe of the Chaise-Dieu, Master of 
the Sorbonne, Member of the French Academy, &c., &c. The very 
man who had been wont to bestow alms upon a descendant of the 
house of Valois was now almost ready to cringe to the former re- 
cipient of his boimty for favour and support. This dissolute and 
intriguing prelate, who was destined to attain such unenviable 
notoriety through his connection with the Countess de la MottCj 
was born on the 27th of September, 1734, and at this period was 
consequently verging on his fiftieth year. He was, as we have 
already mentioned, a tall, stout, handsome-looking man, with afresh- 
coloured complexion, bald forehead, and whitish grey hair. His 
manners were amiable ; he was fluent in conversation, and though 
his talents, as the upshot proves, were of a very inferior order, still 
he was not deficient in that dexterity which goes a long way to- 
wards fitting a man for the conduct of public business — he having, 
with the help of his shrewd secretary, the Abbe Georgel, rather 
cleverly filled the post of Ambassador at the court of Vienna for 
between two and three years. He had been sent to that court in 
January, 1772, to supersede the Baron de Breteuil, thereby making 
a mortal enemy of that minister, now in high favour with the 



66 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

sovereign. But this was not all. He had also incurred the dis- 
like, and even hatred, of the Queen of France, partly in conse- 
quence of having repeated to the Empress Maria Theresa certain 
scandals current at the French court respecting the unbecoming 
levity of her daughter, then dauphiness — who, by-the-way, by 
virtue of his office of coadjutor at Strasbourg, he had had to receive 
on the occasion of her first entry into France — and partly in conse- 
quence of a letter written by him in an unguarded moment, wherein 
he reflected strongly on the duplicity of the empress with respect 
to Poland. In this letter he remarked that *' Maria Theresa stands, 
indeed, with a handkerchief in one hand, weeping for the woes of 
Poland, but with a sword in the other, ready to cut Poland into 
sections, and take her share,"^ an obsei-vation in which there was not 
only point, but far too much truth for it to pass unregarded. This 
letter was read and laughed over by Louis XV., and by him repeated 
to the Countess Dubarry at one of her petits sozq^ersj and the 
countess, in her turn, gossiped about it, until at length the affair 
became a court joke and reached the ears of the dauphiness, who, 
whilst repressing her indignation at the time, did not fail to treasure 
up the circumstance in her memory. 

In spite of the queen's aversion, which, by-the-way, was fully 
shared by Louis XV I. ^ the cardinal, whose ambition led him to 
covet the office of prime minister, fondly hoped, sooner or later, to 
recover his ground. When therefore he heard, as very good care 
was taken he very quickly should hear, that a lady who stood in 
certain tender relations towards himself, and was under certain 
pecuniary obligations to him, was in favour with the queen, the 
credulous dotard suspected neither deception nor exaggeration in 
the report ; which perhaps was hardly surprising, for Nature, we 
are told, had given the soi-disant new favourite a frank and honest 
face in spite of her proficiency in the arts of deceit. " Without 
possessing the full splendour of beauty," observes the Abb6 
Georgel, "the Countess de la Motte was gifted with all the graces 
of youth, her countenance was intelligent and attractive, and she 
expressed herself with fluency ; moreover, the air of truth that per- 

'^ "M^moires pour servir k I'Histoire des Ev^nementa de la fin du 
XVIIIe si^cle," par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 220. 



THE CARDINAL KEEPS HIGH STATE AT VIENNA. G7 

'vaded her recitals invariably carried conviction along with it" The 
cardinal, only too ready to be blinded and deluded, counselled his 
protegee how to proceed in order to retain and improve the posi- 
tion which he imagined she had already acquired, intending, with- 
out doubt, to avail himself of her interest to recover the good 
opinion of the queen, whose deep-rooted prejudice against him was 
the bane of his life. 

Madame Campan speaks of the cardinal as a spendthrift, and a 
man of the most immoral character, whose mission to Vienna 
opened under the most unfavourable auspices, in consequence of 
the nature of the reputation which preceded his arrival at that 
court. " In want of money, and the house of Rohan being unable 
to make him any considerable advances, he obtained a patent which 
authorised him to borrow the sum of six hundred thousand livres 
(twenty-four thousand pounds) upon his benefices ; nevertheless he 
ran into debt for upwards of another million, and thought to 
dazzle the city and court of Vienna by the most indecent, and, at 
the same time, the most ill-judged extravagance. He formed a 
suite of eight or ten gentlemen of names sufficiently high sounding, 
twelve pages equally well-born, a crowd of officers and servants, 
together with a company of chamber musicians, and various other 
retainers. But this idle pomp did not last ; embarrassment and 
distress soon showed themselves ; his people, no longer receiving 
pay, abused the ambassadorial privileges, and smuggled with so 
much effrontery that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to it without 
offending the court of France, was compelled to suppress the 
privileges in this respect of the entire diplomatic corps.''^ 

In those days an ambassador was not only required to be an 
adept in duplicity, but he was expected, by means of bribery, or 
other modes of corruption more or less dishonourable, to make 
himself master of all the secrets of the court to which he was ac- 
credited. The cardinal proved himself in this respect equal to the 
mission with which he was intrusted. At the commencement of 
the year 1774 he discovered that the Austrian minister. Prince von 
Kaunitz, had succeeded in purchasing keys of the ciphers in which 
the despatches that passed between the French king and himself 

' " Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 42. 



-68 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and the ambassadors at Constantinople, Stockholm, Dantzic, and 
St. Petersburg were written. He also discovered that the court 
of Vienna had obtained copies of and had deciphered all the de- 
spatches sent by the Duke d'Aiguillon to the various representa- 
tives of the court of Versailles throughout Northern Europe. He 
learnt, too, that the main work of interception was done at Liege, 
Brussels, Frankfort, and Ratisbon. At these places copies of 
despatches were taken and forwarded to what was stj^led the 
"Cabinet of Decipherers," a department of w^hich Baron Peckler 
•was the head.^ 

How it was that the cardinal came to make this important dis- 
covery and to profit largely by it, as he eventually managed to do, 
is quite a piece of romance. The Abb6 Georgel, at that time 
secretary to the French embassy at Vienna, shall tell the story in 
his own words. 

"Returning one evening to the hotel, the porter gave me a note 
carefully sealed up, and addressed to me. I read in it as follows : — 
* Be to-night, between eleven and twelve, at a particular place upon 
the ramparts, and you will be informed of matters of the very 
highest importance.' An anonymous note of this tenor, sent so 
mysteriously, and the unseasonable hour appointed, might have ap- 
• peared to some persons altogether dangeroiis and suspicious. But 
I was not aware that I had any enemies, and, desirous not to have 
to reproach myself with having missed an opportunity that might 
never occur again of promoting the king's service, I determined to 
attend at the appointed place. JBut I took some prudential 
precautions, by placing within^ ^certain distance, where they could 
not be seen, two persons on whom I could rely, to come to my 
•assistance upon a signal agreed on. I found at the place of 
meeting a man wrapped in a cloak, and masked. He put some 
papers into my hands, and said in a feigned undertone : ' You 
have my confidence ; I will therefore contribute to the success of 
M. the Prince de Rohan's embassy. These papers will inform you 
of the very essential services which it is in my power to render you. 
If you approve of them, come again to-morrow to ' another place 

^ *'M6moires Historiques et Politiques du rbgsxe de Louis XVI.," par 
VAbb^ Soula\'ie, vol. iii. p. 277, et seq. 



COPIES OF SECRET DESPATCHES OBTAmED. 69 

which he mentioned, * and bring me a thousand ducats.' On my 
return to the Hotel de France, I hastened to examine the papers 
confided to me. Their contents gave me the most agreeable 
surprise. I saw that we had it in our power to procure twice 
a week copies of all the discoveries made by the secret cabinet 
of Vienna, which was the best served cabinet in Europe. This 
seet'et cabinet possessed in the highest degree the art of deciphering 
quickly the despatches of ambassadors and of the governments with 
whom they corresponded. I was convinced by the deciphering of 
our own despatches and the despatches of our court to us — even 
those written in the most complicated and the newest ciphers — • 
that this cabinet had found means to intercept and obtain copies of 
the despatches of several European courts, through the treachery 
and audacity of the frontier directors and postmasters, bribed for 
that purpose. 

"Furnished with these documents and armed with unquestionable 
proofs of their authenticity, I instantly went post haste to com- 
municate them to the ambassador. I laid before him the samples 
of the political magazine, from which we might supply ourselves. 
The Prince de Eohan felt the value of it^ especially to himself per- 
sonally, inasmuch as this important discovery must necessarily 
efface the unpleasant impressions which the Duke d'Aiguillon had 
not failed to make upon the king's mind, by representing to him 
that Prince Louis, too frivolous, and too much taken up with the 
pursuits of pleasure, was not so watchful at Vienna as the service 
of the state required. 

" I met the masked man the following night, and gave him the 
thousand ducats: when he handed to me other papers of increasing 
interest, and during my whole stay at Vienna he faithfully per- 
formed his promise. Our meetings took place twice a week, and 
always about midnight. The ambassador wisely decided that the 
occupation arising from this discovery should be confined to him 
and to myself, with an old secretary whose discretion we knew 
would stand any trial. The secretary was employed in copying for 
our court the papers of the masked man, to whom we were obliged 
to return them. 

" A courier extraordinary was at once despatched to Versailles 
with the first-fruits of our newly-discovered treasure. He was 



70 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

ordered not to go to bed on his way, and to carry about his person 
the special packet of secret despatches to the very end of his 
journey. A separate letter communicated the manner in which 
this disclosure had been made to us. Our courier returned 
promptly, the bearer of a despatch from the Duke d'Aiguillon, 
which contained this acknowledgment of the cardinal's services : 
* I sincerely and feelingly shay e,' said the minister, * both in the 
satisfaction with which the king acknowledges your services, and 
the credit which this discovery throws upon your mission,' From 
the time of this discovery an extraordinary courier was sent off 
to Versailles every fortnight with new commupiications, and always 
with the same precautions as before."^ j 

Soulavie tells us it was through the Atistrian ambassador at 
Versailles, who, like the rest of his fraternity, had a whole host of 
traitorous officials in his pay, that the court of Vienna got scent of 
what was going on. The Prince von Kaunitz, suspecting that the 
treachery was perpetrated in his office, had the locks of his cabinet 
changed, and made a point of intrusting all the most important 
despatches to no one except his private secretary. He even went 
the length of having one of his clerks, of whom he entertained 
some suspicion, di'owned in the Danube ; but all was of no avail ; 
the masked man, according to the Abb6 Georgel, redoubled his zeal 
at each succeeding interview. 

Two months after the death of Louis XV. the cardinal was 
superseded in his post. He had hurried off to pay his court to 
the new king at Compi^gne, where he was not long in becoming 
acquainted with the fact that the queen was his avowed enemy. 
He obtained an audience of Louis XVL, but it was brief, and by no 
means satisfactory. The king listened for a few minutes to the 
cardinal's explanations, and then abruptly said, "I will let you 
know my pleasure." As for Marie-Antoinette, she positively 
declined to receive him, although he had a letter from her mother 
the empress to deliver. The only notice she took of him was to 
desire that this letter might be sent to her. As a last resource he 
addressed a written communication to the king, which Louis XVL 

' " M^moires pour servir k I'Histoire des Evdnements de la fin du 
XVnp si^cle," par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. i. p. 269, et seq. 



THE CARDINAL IS IN DISGRACE. 71 

did not condescend to answer. The cardinal had now no longer 
any doubt that his disgrace was determined upon. 

Although his downfall w^as really to be ascribed to the joint ani- 
mosity of Maria Theresa and her daughter, the grounds publicly 
put forward for it were these. " First, the public gallantries (at 
Vienna) of Prince Louis with women of the court and others of less 
distinction ; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards other 
foreign ministers, which it was stated would have been attended 
w^ith more serious consequences if the empress herself had not in- 
terfered j thirdly, his contempt for religion in a country where it 
was particularly necessary to show respect for it (he had been seen 
frequently to dress himself in clothes of different colours, assuming 
the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom he visited, with 
so much publicity that one day in particular, during the Fete Dieu, 
he and all his legation, in green uniforms laced with gold, broke 
through a religious procession which impeded them, in order to 
make their way to a hunting party at the Prince von Paar's) ; and 
fourthly, the immense debts contracted by him and his people, 
which were tardily and only in part discharged.^ 

After the cardinal's return to Paris from his Viennese mission, 
although his manners may have mended somewhat, his morals re- 
mained as loose as ever. He is reported to have kept up in 
different quarters of the city various small establishments to which, 
it is said, he was in the habit of retiring to emulate in secret the 
vices of the Roman emperors. His conduct in public appears to 
have been hardly more reputable, for one day the king when hunt- 
ing with the Count d'Artois in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau, 
came upon Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan with a handsome young 
abb6, his hair elegantly dressed and powdered, seated beside him 
in his carriage. The king remarked to his brotlier that the abbe 
only required a little rouge to pass for a woman, but the more 
quick-sighted Count d'Artois had already discovered that the pre- 
tended abbe was a woman in disguise — none other, in fact, than 
one of the cardinal's mistresses — the notorious Marquise de 
Marigny.'^ 

* •' Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 65. 
"" " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVL, Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. i. pp. 229, 591. 



72 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XI. 

1784. 

PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE QUEEN. — • 
A FORGER ON THE PREMISES. — BILLETS-DOUX BORDERED WITH 
" VIGNETTES BLEUES." 

Before the close of spring in the year 1784, the Countess de la 
Motte has eifectually built up her grand fabrication. Although 
she neglects no opportunity of giving out that the queen desires 
this pretended intimacy to be kept a profound secret, yet, like most 
other profound secrets, it becomes pretty generally known; the 
imposture is established as a reality, and the Grand Almoner of 
France has been caught in the net. This singularly credulous in- 
dividual, weighed down with places and honours, but ambitious of 
more, is led to believe, quite as much by his own folly as the 
countess's craft, that a channel has at length been opened for his 
reinstatement in the queen's favour, and his -elevation to the office 
of prime minister. All the machinery set in motion by the im- 
postor and her confederates to make money by the abuse of the 
queen's name is now directed with both energy and skill upon the 
Prince de Rohan, whose paternal hand is employed to diffuse the 
'Charities of a kingdom upon those suppliants who best understand 
how to represent their wants, and whose own annual revenue ex- 
ceeds a million of livres (£40,000). 

Gradually, step by step, the vigilant schemer advances, her, 
dupe's fancy and conceit outstepping the measured tread of the 
inventor, whose falsehoods are not poured forth fast enough to 
fill the wide throat of this insatiable gull. First she assures him 
that she has spoken and interceded for him with the queen, who 
listened to her with attention but evident suspicion; but that 
after having heard of several instances of his benevolence to her- 
self and other persons, the royal prejudice had given way. The 
cardinal of course takes heart at this assurance, and waits re- 



SIAJESTY HAS CONSIDERATELY EELENTED. 73 

signedly for the happy progress of a negotiation which had opened 
so promisingly. The countess thus describes this pretended in- 
terview with Marie-Antoinette in her Memoirs : 

"In one of my interviews with her majesty, the queen inquired 
how I had supported myself before I was introduced to her. This 
was the moment for naming my benefactor, but it required some 
caution, lest the queen should discover that I was deeper in his 
confidence and counsels than it was proper for me to appear. I 
attempted, if possible, to avoid giving the least cause for suspicion, 
and expatiated largely, in general terms, on the cardinal's benefi- 
cence, charity, and benevolence ; enumerated the services he had 
rendered to almost every one that applied; that from his generosity 
he had acquired the esteem he merited ; and spoke with a grate- 
ful warmth of the favours he had heaped upon me. 

" Her majesty regarded me with a curious and penetrating eye : 
she paused for some minutes, and appeared buried in thought. 
This was the first moment of my mentioning the cardinal's name, 
and I had an opportunity of reading in her majesty's face such a 
degree of aversion that gave me a very unfavourable omen of suc- 
cess : the strength of her antipathy I was then first acquainted 
with. At length, awakening from her reverie, she expressed her 
surprise at the information I had given her. She did not think 
the cardinal capable of such actions."^ 

In due time the gTand almoner is informed that majesty has at 
last relented, having been of course won over by the countess's 
continuous praises of him, and by her assurances that he was far 
less culpable than he was represented to be by his enemies ; that 
he was full of penitence and remorse for any errors he might have 
committed ; that her majesty's aversion to him was his constant 
,afiliction ; and that his health was yielding to this sorrow. 

" I am authorised by the queen," the countess one day calmly 
said to him, " to request you to furnish her with a written explana- 
tion of the faults imputed to you." 

In compliance with this demand, the cardinal delivered to 
Madame de la Motte a lengthy exculpatory statement, the main 
purport of which was to accuse his niece, the Princess de 

* Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 294. 



74: THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Guemenee, of having intrigued to add to his disgrace at court 
while pretending to act as intercessor on his behalf. From time 
to time the princess appears to have allured him with specious 
promises of his ultimate restoration to royal favour, and the kind 
of return she exacted for her pretended good offices may be judged 
of from the following passage, which, as will presently appear, 
Madame de la Motte did not fail to note and profit by : " The 
princess was sensible of the excessive joy she gave me,^ and availed 
herself of it to request of me the loan of a 'pretty considerable sum. 
I Would have parted with my whole fortune, thinking myself too 
happy in being useful to a woman to whom I was so greatly be- 
holden. The easy compliance she had met with enticed her to 
make further demands, which I could not refuse, she always know- 
ing how to accompany them with hopes, with soothing promises, 
and at the same time with difficulties she would find ways to 
overcome."^ It is inconceivable how, after feeling convinced that 
he had been the dupe of one designing woman, the cardinal could 
have been such a dotard as to have been again deluded by an 
intrigante who used precisely the same arts, and who exacted from 
him precisely the same kind of return. Such, however, was the 
case. 

About three weeks after the delivery of his written justification 
into the hands of Madame de la Motte, the grand almoner received 
a note, bordered with ^^ vignettes hleues" and purporting to be 
written by Marie-Antoinette. This stated that she had read with 
indignation of the manner in which he had been deceived by his 
niece, assured him that she had forgotten all that had passed, and 
desired him never again to make the slightest allusion to a matter 
so unpleasant — a convenient way of tabooing a subject, the discus- 
sion of which might have proved extremely embarrassing to the 
countess, and have sooner or later exposed the fraud then being 
practised upon the cardinal. The note wound up with the follow- 
ing passage, the motive of which the reader will be at no loss to 
divine : " The account which the countess has given me of your 

" She had informed the cardinal that the queen had deigned to accept of 
a white Spanish dog which the cardinal had oflfered to her through the 
princess. Of course Marie- Antoinette had done nothing of the kind. 

2 "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 12, Appendix. 



THE PLOT THICKENS FORGED LETTERS. 75 

behaviour towards her has made a stronger impression on me than 
all that you have written to me. I hope that you will never forget 
that it is to her you are indebted for your pardon."^ 

The plot thickens : all at once we find ourselves in deeper water. 
Before we had false rumours and reports ; now we have forged 
letters. The cardinal having received the first one as genuine, 
what is to preveut the success of others ? Nothing, it would seem, 
so long as the countess exercises her customary discretion. Let- 
ters and replies thereupon follow each other in quick succession, 
amounting in course of time to something like a couple of hundred 
in number. Of these the countess pretended she preserved copies 
of thirty-one, which she subsequently printed by way of appendix 
to her autobiography. Judging from these samples, the communi- 
cations which, according to her assertions, passed between the 
queen and the cardinal, were not merely tender and familiar, but 
occasionally touched upon subjects that were positively indelicate.^ 

It is needless to inform the reader that, so far as the letters at- 
tributed to Marie-Antoinette are concerned, they were one and all 
of them vile fabrications. They were penned, in fact, by the 
prospective sub-lieutenant of the marshalsea, of whom we have 
already spoken, Retaux de Villette, who was attached to the 
countess in the double capacity of " cavalier servente " and secre- 
tary, and whose chief occupation seems to have consisted in forging 
letters on gilt-edged paper, or paper bordered with blue flowers 
{vignettes hleues). His cabinet de travail was madame's bedchamber, 
and he worked at a little table by the bedside, on which was a 
writing-case with a stock of note-paper, such as the queen was 
known to be in the habit of using.^ Monsieur de Villette resided 
regularly under the De la Motte roof, for Jeanne de Saint-Remi, 
Countess de Valois de la Motte, having considerable traffic in 
forgery, found it necessary to keep a forger on the premises, just 
as other people find it requisite to keep a secretary or a clerk. 

^ "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 17, Appendix. 

^ A few of these letters are given in the Appendix to the present work. 

3 ♦* Confrontation du Cardinal avec le P6re Loth." The latter described 
the paper on which Villette wrote as being bordered vrith ''vignettes hleues,'' 
and in M. Feuillet de Conches' unique collection of autographs of Marie- 
Antoinette are several notes written by the queen on paper with coloured 
borders. 



76 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

If we glance behind the scenes, we cannot help being impresse(! 
by this daring woman's strength of mind, which enables her to 
work so calmly and leisurely while all the time the wolf is at the 
door. Not only has she her idle husband and herself to support, 
but there is at times her brother, whose pension she has sold, and 
her ** secretary," and she not possessed of a single sou of regular 
income ! To add to all this, she is in debt to the landlord, the 
tax-gatherer, and the tradespeople ; duns are calling upon her 
every hour — duns are even waiting in the ante-room while she is 
dictating forged letters to Yillette. Her own pension and that of 
her brother being utterly gone, the family have literally no bread 
to eat but that of charity, and the bread of charity is so scanty 
and bitter that the descendant of the house of Valois has become a 
liar and a forger, and is preparing to become a thief, in order to 
add to and sweeten it. And all this while, with her thread of life 
drawn, so to speak, to a single hair, she is the emblem of com- 
posure, advancing *' stealthily, steadfastly, with Argus eye and 
ever-ready brain — with nerve of iron, on shoes of felt ! " whilst 
Cardinal Prince de Rohan, her father in years, who lives in palaces 
surrounded by every luxury, holds one of the highest offices in the 
state, is superior of numerous important religious establishments 
and seigneur of countless manors, and has. a revenue of upwards 
of a million livres, is feverish with impatience. 

According to his usual practice, the Cardinal, with Versailles 
and the Little Trianon closed against him, is spending the sultry 
summer-time in retirement at his stately palace of Saverne, a huge 
building of red sandstone in the Italian style of architecture, for 
the most part newly erected by himself in place of a former edifice 
consumed by fire a few years previously. At Saverne the Cardinal 
Prince Louis de Rohan exercises all the authority of a petty sove- 
reign, and keeps up a well-nigh regal state. Gentleman of high 
birth do not disdain his service ; and such is the prodigality that 
rules in his establishment, that he has no less than fourteen 
mattres dliotel and twenty-five valets de chamhre ! ^ Situated at the 
foot of the eastern slope of the Vosges, and almost within sight of 
the valley of the Rhine, Saverne has its upper and lower towns, 

^ *' M^moires de la Baronne d'Oberkirche," vol. i. 



THE EPISCOPAL PALACE OF SAVERNE. 77 

in the former of which are situated the cathedral, the chancelleries 
the hotel de la regence, the ancient chateau, and, adjoining this last, 
the palatial residence of the once all-powerful De Rohans. The 
principal front of this vast building looked over charming gardens, 
laid out in the French style, with handsome terraces and arcades, 
geometrically-shaped beds of brilliant flowers, trees trimmed to 
pattern, green shady alleys, trellises covered with vines, arbours, 
statues, fountains, rivulets, broad sheets of water, islands, grottos, 
and kiosques, while beyond all this extended a beautiful park, at 
the outskirts of which was a pheasantry, bounded by a dense 
forest, whose glades in the pleasant autumn months were alive 
with piqueurs and packs of dogs and sportsmen in the great gold 
uniform of the cardinal, while the huntsman's horn might be heard 
incessantly resounding. 

The palace, on the garden side, presented one long facade 
ornamented with fluted Corinthian pilasters and richly-carved 
cornices and mouldings, and having countless windows of a uniform 
character. Its somewhat unpleasing regularity was broken by a 
projecting centre part with a row of open columns and balustrades, 
which formed a kind of gallery, handsomely decorated in its differ- 
ent stages with ornamental friezes, statues and bas-reliefs, and 
having the elaborately-sculptured armorial bearings of the family 
of De Rohan and its many alliances prominently displayed at 
either end.^ 

' The principal entrance to the episcopal palace conducted to a 
handsome vestibule, from whence the grand staircase led to the 
magnificent suite of reception rooms where the Prince de Rohan, 
banished from Versailles, assembled around him a little court of 
his own, composed of some few members of the old nobility related 
to his house, discontented courtiers who disliked the young queen, 
certain too complaisant beauties, and petits-maUres from the Paris 
salons, philosophers, prelates, and provincial magnates, military 
officers from the neighbouring garrison at Strasbourg, and the 
usual complement of fools and flatterers that invariably dance 
attendance on the powerful and the wealthy. 

The once stately palace of Saverne is now-a-days divested of all 

^ " Saverne et ses environs," par C. G. Klein. 



78 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

its former splendour. It serves alike for the mairie, the court of 
the justice of the peace, and the corn-market ; and as barracks, 
guard-house, forage-stores, farriery, and stables for the troops com- 
posing the garrison of the town.^ 

In the surcimer of the year 1784 couriers bound for Paris would 
every now and then sally forth from the palace gates with bags of 
letters, among which there was invariably one elaborately-sealed 
packet addressed to the Countess de la Motte. Enclosed in this 
would be a letter for the queen, begging, entreating, praying for an 
interview at which the writer might plead his cause and regain 
complete possession of his royal mistress's favour. Days and weeks 
go by while he is waiting and watching for a response. Judge 
however, of the cardinal's agitation when one day the countess 
herself arrives unexpectedly at Saverne — having travelled post all 
the way from Paris — and announces to him that the long and 
eagerly-sought interview is at length accorded to him ; that the 
queen has consented to a midnight meeting with him in the Park 
of Versailles. The countess thought, and thought rightly, that a 
journey of nearly three hundred miles, undertaken on purpose to 
be the bearer of this welcome intelligence, would give it all the 
greater weight, and would effectually dispel any unpleasant doubts 
that might perchance by this time have taken possession of the 

cardinal's mind.^ 

• 

* "This refers to the year 1866. What changes the former palace may 
have undergone since Saverne has been under German domination I am 
unable to say. 

^ " Memoire i^our le Cardinal de Rohan," p. 24. 



MADEMOISELLE LEGUAY DESIGN Y. 79 



XII. 

1784. June — July. 

the counterfeit queen. 

Counterfeit hillets-doux having been palmed off on the infatuated 
cardinal as genuine with such complete success, the countess now 
ventures on a singularly bold step, nothing less than the persona- 
tion of majesty itself, and actually succeeds in foisting upon the 
purblind prelate une belle courtisane of the Palais Royal as the 
beautiful, high-born Marie- Antoinette. 

This incident of the nocturnal interview — the most daring of the 
many daring schemes of which the long intrigue was composed — 
is so fully and clearly, and, moreover, so artlessly, described by the 
^^ Jille du monde" who was bribed to perform the character of 
Marie-Antoinette on the occasion, in her memorial published at the 
time of the Necklace trial, as to completely exonerate the queen 
from having been in any way a party to it. Prior, however, to 
laying this statement before the reader, we have something to say 
respecting the new character whom we are about to introduce upon 
the scene. 

This young person, commonly known as Mademoiselle d'Oliva, 
but whose real name was Leguay Designy, was bom in Paris 
in 1761, and was consequently younger than the queen by seven 
years. Although her reputation was anything but spotless, she was 
by no means the common creature she is ordinarily represented to 
have been. M. Leguay Designy, her father, had been a respectable 
citizen, who at his death was found to have saved money, and when 
her mother died, a few years before the event which rendered the 
daughter an object of so much notoriety, Mademoiselle Leguay 
Designy was left with a competent provision deposited for her in 
the hands of trustees. These guardians however abused their 
trust, and after dissipating the bulk of the young woman's pro- 
perty, compromised the matter by the payment of four thousand 



80 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACK 

livres, which money she received in the early part of 1784, only a 
few months before the day rendered memorable by the midnight 
meeting in the park of Versailles. 

Mademoiselle Leguay Designy, in her memorial, drawn up by her 
advocate, M. Blondel — who, perceiving that the very simplicity of 
his client was her best defence, had the sagacity to let her tell her 
story in her own way — thus describes how it was that she first be- 
came acquainted with the De la Mottes, husband and wife. 

" In the month of June, 1784, I lodged," she says, " in a small 
apartment in the Rue du Jour, in the Quartier St. Eustache.^ I 
was not very far from the Palais Royal, where I used frequently to 
go of an afternoon for two or three hours with a neighbour's child, 
about four years old, of whom I was very fond. 

*' One afternoon, in the month of July, when I was sitting in the 
Palais Royal, this child being along with me, I observed a stranger 
pass by several times ; he was a tall young man, and quite alone. 
He looked at me fixedly, and I noticed as he came near to me that 
he slackened his pace as if to survey me more attentivel}'..-; There 
was a vacant chair two or three feet from mine, in which he seated 
himself. 

*' I could not avoid bestowing my attention upon him, for his 
eyes kept repeatedly wandering over my person. The expression 
of his countenance becomes grave and earnest, and he appears 
agitated by a painful and anxious curiosity as he scans my entire 
figure very narrowly, whilst not a feature of my face escapes him. 

" We met in this way in the gardens of the Palais Royal for 
several successive days, until at last he addressed me, and I com- 
mitted the error of replying to him. 

" One evening on leaving him I returned home, when I found 
that he had followed me without my perceiving it. Suddenly he 
stood before me in my apartment. He introduced himself with 
every sign of respectful politeness, and requested me to allow him 
occasionally to visit me. I could not take upon myself to deny his 

"^ The Rue du Jour is a narrow street close to the "Halles Centrales, '' 
and at the western end of the church of St. Eustache. It contains at the 
present day several Hotels meubles of a seedy kind, but the "petit h6tel 
Lambesc, " where Mdlle. Leguay Designy had her small apartment on the 
premier elage, no longer exists under its original name. 



M. DE LA MOTTE INTRODUCES HIMSELF. 81 

request, and after obtaining my consent, he was most assiduous in 
his calls. But I had no reason to complain of these visits, for the 
young man never passed the limits of propriety. He questioned 
me, however, with the kindest concern respecting my income and 
future prospects, taking a lively interest in my fate. He also 
spoke of powerful protectors of his own, to whom he could recom- 
mend me, and who might be able to serve me. 

" Doubtless you are eager to know who this stranger was. It is 
time to name him ; it was M. de la Motte, who represented himself 
to be an officer of distinguished rank, with great expectations, and 
supported by illustrious patrons.^ 

"It was, I think, on the occasion of his ninth visit, one morning 
at the beginning of August, 1784,^ that I observed his counten- 
ance overspread with joy and satisfaction, such as he had never 
exhibited before. He had, he said, the most agreeable, the most 
interesting things to tell me. 

"«T T-ave just left,' continued he, 'a person of very great 
distinction, who spoke a great deal about you. I shall bring the 
lady to see you this evening.' 

''I awaited that evening with eagerness, counting every hour 
and every moment, for I longed to see this lady of very great dis- 
tinction. 

" M. de la Motte returned at night, telling me that in a few 
moments I should see the person about whom he had spoken in 
the morning. Whereupon, and without any further explanation, 
lie withdrew. 

"Scarcely had he left me, before I saw a lady enter my chamber; 
she was all alone — no servant was attending her. She approached 
me with politeness, and with looks full of affiibility. 

"'Madame,' said she, smiling, 'you must be rather surprised 
at my visit, unknown to you as I am.' 

" I replied that the surprise could not be otherwise than agree- 
able to me. 

" This person was the wife of my pretended patron ; she was 

' The count being, according to K^taux de Villette, a notorious gambler, 
the Palais Royal, where the salons de jeu most abounded, would naturally 
have been one of his accustomed haunts. 

"^ More probably towards the end of July. 

F 



82 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Madame de la Motte, but she took good care not to say so then. I 
offered the lady a chair, she drew it herself close to my own, and 
sat down. Then leaning over towards me, with a look at once 
cautious and confiding, whilst her eye api^eared to gleam with an 
expression of benevolent regard, she said to me, in a low voice, 
what I am about to relate. 

" ' Confide, my dear pet, in what I am going to say , I am a 
gentlewoman belonging to the court.' 

" At the same time she drew out a pocket-book, and having 
opened it, showed me several letters, which she declared to me 
were written to her by the queen. 

" * But, madame,' answered I, ' all this is a mystery to me ; I 
cannot understand it.' 

" * You will soon understand it, my pet. I possess the queen's 
full confidence ; we are like hand and glove together. She has 
just given me another proof of this trust, by commissioning me to 
find her a person to do something which will be explained at the 
proper time. I have made choice of you, and, if you like to 
undertake it, 1 will make you a present of 15,000 livres (francs) ; 
but the present that you will receive from the queen will be much 
more considerable. I cannot tell you my name just yet, but you 
shall soon be informed who I am. If, however, you do not think 
my word sufficient, and desire to have security for the 15,000 
livres, we will go directly to a notary's.' ** 

[In the following paragraph the pen of the advocate has 
evidently been at work.] 

** Ye simple and trustful hearts, pause for a moment after read- 
ing this artful speech from the boldest and most audacious 
intriguer that ever lived. Fancy yourselves in my place, deign 
to consider what my feelings must have been, what I must 
have thought and imagined, T, a poor girl of twenty-three, unac- 
quainted with either intrigue or business. What would you 
have said 1 What would you have done under similar circum- 
stances ? 

"From that moment I was no longer myself. I answered 
Madame de la Motte that I should be proud to be able to do any- 
thing that would be agreeable to the queen, without any motive of 
personal interest to prompt me. 



LA BELLE IMAGE AT VERSAILLES. 83 

" She replied immediately, ' The Count de la Motte will call for 
you to-morrow evening in a carriage, and will carry you to Yer- 
saiUes.'"^ 

The reader will not fail to observe the precision with which the 
countess enters on her course of action ; the quickness with which 
she manages to come to the point. Her husband takes a fortnight 
to bring about the introduction of his wife, while she settles every- 
thing at a single interview. 

The next day the count, who is accompanied by Retaux de 
Villette, takes Mademoiselle Leguay to Versailles at the appointed 
time, and leaves her with his wife in their apartments at the Hotel 
de la Belle Image, kept by the Sieur Gobert, and situated in the 
Place Dauphine, at that time one of the most aristocratic quarters 
of the royal town. This place is octagonal in shape, and the 
houses, which range from four to five storeys high, all have some 
sort of pretension about them ; the}^ have either open balustrades 
running along the parapets, or carved cornices with enriched 
mouldings surmounting the windows, or ornamental iron balconies. 
Most of them too have large partes cocheres. The Place, which in 
Madame de la Motto's days was a large open space, where the 
public sedan-chairs — the chaises hleues and the hrouettes — used to 
ply for hire, is to-day laid out as a flower garden, and has in the 
centre a bronze statue of General Hoche, after whom the Place is 
now named. The house where the countess lodged was formerly 
known as " La Belle Image," but it no longer preserves its sign. 
It is, however, easily recognisable, being the first house (No. 8)^ in 
the angle on the right hand, on entering the Place from the Rue 
Hoche. All the apartments, with the exception of the attics, must 
have been of a superior class. Now-a-days the ground floor is 
appropriated to a " Magasin Anglais," where English cutlery, and 
needles and pins, and reels and balls of cotton, and patent 
medicines and pickles, and old brown Windsor soap, and biscuits 
are exposed for sale. To return, however, to Mademoiselle 
Leguay, whose memorial thus proceeds : 

" It was only then I learnt the name and condition of Madame 



M^moire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d'Oliva," p. 8, et seq. 
Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles, par J. A. Le Roi. 



81 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

de la Motte, that she was the wife of Count de la Motte, that she 
went by the title of Countess de Valois at Versailles, and that the 
queen used to write to her in that name." 

The belle courtisane of the Palais Royal, whose resemblance to 
Marie- Antoinette is said to have been singularly striking,— she was 
remarkable for the elegance of her figure, had blue eyes and chest- 
nut-coloured hair^ — is now dressed and tricked out in coquettish 
neglige — a white robe efi chemise, bordered and lined with rose 
colour, and a white lace hood — for the famous interview which the 
Cardinal de Rohan had so earnestly solicited of the queen, with 
whom the miserable dupe flattered himself he had been all this while 
corresponding. The memorial continues : 

" Madame de la Motte delivered to me a small note, folded in the 
usual way, but without telling me either what it contained or to 
whom it was addressed, or even by whom it was written. Neither 
she nor her husband spoke to me on the subject. Madame de la 
Motte merely said, ' I will take you this evening into the park, 
and you will deliver this letter to a great nobleman whom you 
will meet there.' "^ 

* " Deuxi6ine Memoire pour le Sieur Bette d'Etienville, ' p. 17. 

* " Memoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d'Oliva," p. 16. 



THE CONFEDERATE RECEIVES HER INSTRUCTIONS. 85 



XIIL 

1784. July. 

THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW. " YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS." 

The memorial of the Demoiselle Leguay Designy thus proceeds :— 

" Between eleven and twelve o'clock I went out with Monsieur 
and Madame de la Motte. I had on a white mantle and a white lace 
hood. I do not remember whether I carried a fan in my hand or not ; 
I cannot say for certain. The small note was in my pocket. 

" They took me into the park ; there a rose was put into my 
hand by Madame de la Motte, who said to me : ' You will give this 
rose, along with the letter, to the person who shall present himself 
to you, and say to him these words : — You know what this means? 
The queen will be there to see how your meeting passes off ; she 
will speak to you. She is there yonder, and will be close behind 
you. You shall presently speak to her yourself.' 

" These last words made such an impression on me, that I 
trembled from head to foot. I could not help telling them so : I 
observed to them that I did not know I was to speak to the queen. 
I asked them, in a stammering voice, what was the proper mode of 
form of speech. . . M. de la Motte answered me : ' You must al- 
ways say, Your majesty.' 

" I need hardly, I think, break off here to declare that, far from 
having had the honour of speaking to the queen, or her having 
done me the honour to speak to me, I did not even see her at all. . . 

" We were still walking along when M. de la Motte met a man, 
to whom he said : ' Ah ! is that you V . . . Afterwards, when I 
dined with the La Mottes, I recognised in Villette, their friend, 
the same person who was thus addressed by M. de la Motte. . . . 

" Madame de la Motte then accompanied me to a hedge of yoke 
elms, leaving me there whilst she went to fetch the great nobleman 
to whom I was to speak. 



86 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

*'I remained waiting . . The noble unknown came up, bowing as 
he approached me, whilst Madame de la Motte stood aside a few paces 
off, and appeared to watch the scene. I knew not who the great noble- 
man was, and although the Cardinal de E-ohan now acknowledges 
that he was the person, I am still ignorant upon the point. 

" It was a dull night, not a speck of moonlight ; nor could I dis- 
tinguish anything but those persons and objects which were familiar 
to me. It would be quite impossible for me to describe the state 
I was in. I was so agitated, so excited, so disconcerted, and so 
tremulous, that I cannot conceive how I was able to accomplish even 
half of what I had been instructed to do. 

" I offered the rose to the great nobleman, and said to him, ' You 
know what this means,' or something very similar. I cannot affirm 
whether he took it or let it fall. As for the letter it remained in 
my pocket ; I had entirely forgotten it. 

" As soon as I had spoken, Madame de la Motte came running up 
to us, saying in a low hurried voice : * Quick, quick, come away ! ' 

" I left the stranger, and after proceeding a few steps found my- 
self with M. de la Motte, whilst his wife and the unknown went oiBf 
together and were lost to our view. Count de la Motte conducted 
me back to the hotel, where we sat talking together until the return 
of his lady. 

" She came home about two in the morning, when I explained to 
her that I had forgotten to give the note. I was afraid she would 
have scolded me for this negligence, but instead of doing so she 
evinced the greatest satisfaction, assuring me she had just left the 
queen, and that her majesty was in the highest degree delighted 
with my performance."^ 

Such appears to have been the famous scene in the park of 
Versailles at midnight, when the Prince de Rohan, deluded by an 
artful woman, was fain to believe that he had been honoured with 
an interview with the Queen of France, and might soon expect to 
be openly received at court. The countess knew perfectly well 
that the cheat would run the risk of being detected if the dialogue 
were suffered to proceed too far, she therefore frightened away her 
dupes almost as soon as she had brought them together. 

* *• M^moire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d'Oliva," p. 16, et ssq. 



MADAME DE LA MOTTE's VERSION. 87 

The Countess de la Motte's own account of this interview in the 
park of Versailles, though at variance with that given by Made- 
moiselle d'Oliva, nevertheless agrees sufficiently with it to prove 
that the statement of the latter was perfectly sincere. The 
countess alleges that the idea of practising this deception upon the 
cardinal originated with Marie-Antoinette herself— that the choice 
of the actress who was to personate her, the place appointed for the 
interview, the young girl's embarrassment before the meeting, were 
all known at the time to the queen, who was present in an ad- 
joining arbour. 

Nay, more. According to the same account, the Cardinal de 
Rohan was also privy to the trick played upon himself, and 
connived at the deceit in order to humour her majesty. Madame 
de la Motte's narrative of the transaction is too long to be 
transcribed throughout, but it concludes in this manner : — 

" The poor girl was dressed and adorned like a shrine. . . . 
Judging from the questions she had put to me since her arrival at 
Versailles, it was easy to see that she expected some great ad- 
venture, and had made her preparations accordingly. . . Nothing- 
could be more diverting than the embarrassment of this creature, 
whose real anxiety was about the issue, since she knew she was going 
to play her part before the queen. 

" The scene w^as the arbour at the lower end of the grass-plot. 
This arbour is encompassed on its left-hand path by a hedge of 
hornbeam, supported by a strong lattice^work fence. At a distance 
of three feet from the innei* part of the arbour is a second hedge, 
and the space between the two quicksets forms a walk which leads 
round the enclosure without conducting to the arbour itself 

"At the hour appointed I gave the signal by putting into 
Mademoiselle d'Oliva's hand the rose Which Marie-Antoinette had 
told me to deliver to the cardinal through her means. Having 
placed her at her post, I withdrew. The queen was not ten paces 
from me. I was distressed by d'Oliva's timidity, and the queen 
doubtless experienced the same feeling, for in spite of all her 
reserve and w^atchfulness she could not contain herself, but cried out : 
* Take courage. Don't be afraid ! ' D'Oliva admitted this in her ex- 
amination. The cardinal having come up, the conversation began. 

" The cardinal, whose mind was at ease, since he was in the 



88 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

secret, exei-ted himself to compose the poor girl, by putting none 
but simple questions to her, and saying courteous things. What 
chiefly disconcerted her was, that he spoke of former errors for- 
given, of his gratitude, and made fine promises for the future. Of 
all this she understood nothing, answering Yes or No at random. 
But the cardinal took advantage of these monosyllables to dwell 
upon his happiness with exaggeration, saying the prettiest things 
in the world . . . raising her foot at the close of this speech, and 
respectfully kissing it. It was then Mademoiselle d'Oliva gave him 
the rose, which he placed against his heart, protesting that he 
would preserve this token all his life, and calling it the rose of 
happiness. 

" Everything having been said that was to be said, I came 
forward hurriedly, and announced that Madame and the Countess 
d'Artois were approaching the spot. Every one vanished with 
lightning-like rapidity. D'Oliva returned to the seat where my 
husband was expecting her, the cardinal having rejoined the 
Baron de Planta, whom he had left at some distance on the watch, 
came, acccompanied by him, to me, and induced me to follow him 
beyond the avenue, behind which he stopped to see the queen pass. 
Having caught sight of her as she was stealing out from the comer 
of the grass-plot and taking the walk leading to the terrace, he 
iirged me to follow her majesty, and try to ascertain whether she 
was satisfied. Accordingly I did follow her, with light measured 
steps, and having overtaken her at the entrance to the chateau, 
she made me go in along with her, told me in substance that she 
had been much diverted, paid me a few compliments on my own 
account, and enjoined me not to tell the cardinal that I had seen 
her that evening."^ 

In this account there is much that is false, and but little that is 
true. A counterfeit queen, and no other, was present at the inter- 
view. The cardinal was imposed upon by the trick to which of 
course he was not privy; and having left the park with the full 
conviction that he had spoken to his sovereign, was committed 
to the tender mercies of the countess and her confederates, who 
quickly proceeded to plunder him of his money. 

* "M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 52, et seq. 



THE countess's DAME DE COMPAGNIE. ^9 



XIV. 
1784. July— Nov. 

A GOLDEN" HARVEST. — HISTOEY EEPEATS ITSELF. — BARONESS D'OLIVA 
IS GIVEN THE COLD SHOULDER. 

The evening following that on which the cardinal was so cleverly 
duped, young Beugnot happening to find himself in the neighbour- 
hood of the Eue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, looked in at the countess's 
hotel on the chance of finding her at home. At this period it was 
no longer a spacious appartement that she rented, but the entire 
house ; and yet, with the view of deceiving the cardinal, on whose 
bounty she was now in a large measure dependent, whenever he 
called upon her she used invariably to receive him in some mean 
apartment on one of the upper floors.^ " I was told," says Beugnot, 
" that the master and mistress were absent, and that only Made- 
moiselle Colson was within. This made me the more inclined to 
stay. Mademoiselle Colson was a relation of Madame de la Motto's, 
whom madame had qualified for and raised to the rank of dame de 
compagnie. She w^as wanting neither in wit nor malice, and when- 
ever I met her we always made a point of laughing together at the 
foolishness and extravagance of the heads of the house. They used 
to tell her nothing ; nevertheless she managed to find out every- 
thing. * I think,' she remarked to me on this occasion, ' that their 
royal highnesses are occupied wath some grand project. They pass 
their time in secret counsels, to which the first secretary (Viilette) 
is alone admitted. His reverence the second secretary (Father 
Loth) is consequently reduced to listening at the door : he makes 
three journeys a day to the Eue Vieille-du-Temple (to the Palais- 
Cardinal), without guessing a single word of the messages they 
confide to him. The monk is inconsolable at this, since he is as 
curious as an old devotee.' 

* " M^moire pour le Cardinal de Eohan." 



90 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" We passed two hours in thus slandering our neighbours and in 
making guesses and prophesying. When I wished to leave, Made- 
moiselle Colson pointed to the clock ; it was midnight, and there 
was no chance of finding a voitiire on the stand. Since I had re- 
mained so long, the only thing to do now, she said, was to await 
the return of Madame de la Motte, who would send me home in 
her carriage. I consented. Between twelve and one o'clock we 
heard the sound of a vehicle entering the court, and saw alight 
from it Monsieur and Madame de la Motte, Villette, and a woman 
from twenty-five to thirty years of age — a blonde, very pretty, and 
of a remarkably fine figure. The two women were dressed with 
elegance, but simplicity ; the men wore dress-coats, and had the 
air of having just returned from a country party. They began by 
joking me on my tete-a-tke with Mademoiselle Colson, and spoke 
of the regret we must both have felt at having been so soon dis- 
turbed. They talked any amount of nonsense together, laughed, 
hummed, and seemed as if they could not keep their legs still. 
The stranger shared the common mirth, but she restrained herself 
within due bounds, and displayed a certain timidity. They seated 
themselves at table, the merriment continued, it increased, and 
finally became noisy. Mademoiselle Colson and I wore dull and 
astonished looks, such as one is forced to put^ on in the presence of 
very gay people when one is ignorant of what they are laughing at. 
Meanwhile the party indulging in this excess of hilarity seemed in- 
convenienced by our presence, as it prevented them from speaking 
openly of the subject of their mirth. M. de la Motte consulted 
Villette as to whether there would be any risk in speaking. 
Villette replied that ' he did not admit the truth of the adage that 
one is betrayed only by one's own people ; in fact, anybody and 

everybody were ready to betray you, and discretion ' Here 

Madame de la Motte, by whose side the first secretary was sitting 
at table, suddenly put her hand on his mouth, and said in an im- 
perative tone : ' Hold your tongue ; M. Beugnot is too upright a 
man for your confidence.' I give her own words without changing 
a syllable. The compliment would have been a flattering one if 
the countess had not been ordinarily in the habit of using the 
words * upright man ' and ' fool ' as though they were synonymous. 

" Madame de la Motte, following her usual practice whenever I 



BEUGNOT CONDUCTS SOME FAIR UNKNOWN HOME. 91 

was present, turned the conversation upon Bar-sur-Aube and on 
my family, and inquired when I contemplated returning thither. 
Every one was wishing the supper to come to an end. I asked 
Madame de la Motte to lend me her horses to take me home. 
She raised only a slight difficulty: it was necessary that she 
should send home the stranger, and eventually decided that the 
one living farthest ojff should set down the other on the way. I 
objected to this arrangement, and asked permission of the lady to 
escort her to whatever quarter she lived in, expressing my regret 
at the same time that however distant this might be, it would still 
be too near. This woman's countenance had at the first glance 
caused me that kind of uneasiness which one feels when one is 
conscious of having seen a person before, but cannot remember 
when or where. I addressed several questions to her on our way, 
but was unable to draw anything out of her ; either Madame de 
la Motte, who had spoken to her in private before her departure, 
had recommended her to be discreet with me, or, what seemed 
more probable, she had naturally more inclination for holding her 
tongue than for talking. I set down my silent companion in the 
'Rne de Clery. The uneasiness which I felt in her presence was, I 
afterwards called to mind, due to her striking resemblance to the 
queen. The lady proved to be no other than Mademoiselle d'Oliva, 
and the mirth of my companions was occasioned by the complete 
success of the knavish trick which they had played off only the 
night before in the park of Versailles upon the Cardinal de 
Rohan."! 

This meeting, at which the cardinal was so cleverly fooled, took 
place, be it remembered, either at the end of July — the countess 
fixes it on the 28th — or at the commencement of August. His 
eminence the cardinal was so much elated with his good fortune, 
in having thus recovered, as he hoped, the favour of the queen, 
and felt so well assured that he w^as now in a fair way of becoming 
prime minister, the great object of his ambition, that the Countess 
de la Motte resolved at once to reap the first-fruits of his fond 
hallucination. So great was her decision of character, so tho- 
rough her assurance, so precise and prompt her mode of action, 

* *• M^moires du Conite Beugnot, vol, i. p. 67, et seq. 



92 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

that before many days had elapsed she had applied for, by means 
of a billet bordered with vignettes bleues, penned of course by the 
forger Villette — and obtained the moderate sum of 50,000 livres, 
in the queen's name, assuring her dupe that the queen required 
the loan for certain charitable purposes.^ Ere another three 
months had gone by, by the aid of another forged billet purporting 
to have been penned by the queen, madame succeeded in obtain- 
ing 100,000 livres more. Both these amounts she received at the 
hands of the cardinal's equerry, the Baron de Planta. Thus the 
Prince de Rohan, who in the month of July had been duped by an 
interview with a counterfeit queen, had been swindled, ere the 
year had gone by, out of no less a sum than 150,000 livres, or 
£6,000 sterling. 

This is all the more extraordinary, and only proves the intensity 
of the infatuation under which the old dotard must have been 
labouring, for no very long time previously there had been much 
talk within the purlieus of the court of a daring act of swindling, 
perpetrated by means of a scandalous misuse of the queen's name, 
which ought to have put him on his guard. It seems that one 
Beranger, a fermier-general had been induced to advance a sum of 
200,000 livres, to a certain Madame Cahouet de Villers, a lady 
said to be in attendance on the queen, for the use as he believed 
of her royal mistress. When first the lady applied to him, M. 
Beranger observed that he should be proud to furnish the sum re- 
quired, provided her majesty would condescend to say one word to 
him — only one little word. But the lady only laughed at his un- 
reasonable demand. If the queen, she said, chose to apply in so 
open a manner, of course the contents of every strong box in the 
kingdom w^ould be at her disposal. Then where would be the 
merit of lending so small a sum on such security 1 

Poor Beranger was ashamed of himself for having been so un- 
reasonable, and consented to lend the money if the queen would 
only show him by a look, or even by a nod, that she desired it. 
This compact was agreed upon. 

A few days afterwards, therefore, when the queen wdth her 



" In the cardinal's first ** Mdmoire" he states the sum to have been sixty 
thousand livres, but at his examination he fixed it at fifty thousand. 



OTHER IMPOSTORS USE THE QUEEn's NAME. 93 

train of ladies had to pass along the famous Galerie des Glaces at 
Versailles on some occasion of pleasure, the cautious fermier- 
general posted himself in a quiet corner where he could be seen, 
and bj-and-by Marie- Antoinette swept by full of " nods and becks 
and wreathed smiles," — cunningly provoked by some smart ob- 
servations made by Madame Cahouet de Yillers, and which the 
delighted financier applied entirely to himself. A few hours 
afterwards the two hundred thousand francs were handed to the 
lady in question. The duped fermier-general^ who, when the affair 
came to be commonly known, was toasted as a gallant financier at 
all parties and in all societies for a month or two afterwards, 
ultimately put the affair into the hands of the police, and my lady 
was arrested and sent to Sainte-Pelagie, whilst her husband was 
brought to ruin through having to reimburse the fermier-general 
the amount of which he had been defrauded. 

The above transpired in 1777. Five years later another im- 
posture of a somewhat similar character was brought to light, but 
owing to its having been comparatively harmless in its results, it 
did not make any particular noise. A female boasted that she was 
honoured with the confidence of the queen, and exhibited letters — 
sealed with a seal belonging to Marie-Antoinette which had been 
stolen off a table in the apartment of the Duchess de Polignac — 
inviting her to Trianon. She gave out that she could influence 
the favour of the Princess de Lamballe, and pretended that she 
had been the means of disarming the resentment of the Princess 
de Guemen^e (the Cardinal de Rohan's niece) and Madame de 
Chimay against Madame de Roquefeuille. Here we have the same 
falsehoods, the same sort of dupes, the same farce, and, what is 
strangest of all, the same name ; for the impostor of 1782 was also 
named De la Motte ! — Marie-Josephe-Frangoise Waldburg-Froh- 
berg, wife of Stanislas-Henri-Pierre de la Motte, formerly adminis- 
trator and inspector of the royal college of La Fl^che.^ Thus does 
history, even in its most insignificant byways, repeat itself. 
• For some time after the incident of the midnight interview. 
Mademoiselle Leguay Designy was a constant visitor at the De la 
Mottes' both at Paris and Versailles, and subsequently at their 

* **Histoire de Marie- Antoinette," par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 202. 



94 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

country house at Charonne ; for immediately the countess had 
gathered the first-fruits of her successful fraud a petite maison de 
campagne was added to their other establishments. The demoiselle 
of the Palais Royal was presented to the somewhat mixed company 
she met on these occasions under the title of the Baroness d'Oliva, 
which the countess had herself conferred upon her, deriving, it is sup- 
posed, " Oliva " from " Olisva," an anagram of " Valois." We learn 
from her that at the De la Motte table, which was served, by-the- 
way, by footmen in elegant liveries, there were to be seen officers 
of rank, such as the Baron de Villeroy, chevaliers of St. -Louis and 
of Malta, retired notaries and their wives, a relative of madame's, 
one Yalois, a bootmaker, Retaux de Yillette, the countess's secre- 
tary, and Father Loth, her homme d'affaires, — altogether a 
tolerably free-and-easy sort of society, we have no manner of 
doubt. 

On one occasion the Baroness d'Oliva accompanied the Countess 
de la Motte, the Baron de Yilleroy, and Retaux de Villette to the 
Theatre Frangais to see Beaumarchais* comedy, " The Marriage of 
Figaro," then running its hundred nights ; but as time wore on, 
the countess became less pressing in her invitations, and the inter- 
course between the two ladies grew gradually less intimate, until 
some time in the ensuing November, when the Countess de la 
Motte and the Baroness d'Oliva were no longer on visiting terms. 
With regard to the 15,000 livres which the counterfeit queen was 
to have received for her single night's performance, and on the 
strength of which brilliant engagement she had contracted debts 
w^hich w^ere a source of great future embarrassment to her, this is 
what she says to the countess in her " Memoire : " — 

" Some days after your return from Versailles, you and your 
husband came at midnight in a voiture de place to the Rue de Jour, 
and gave me four hundred livres on account. 

'■'■ On another day you came to me in the evening in your car- 
riage, having only your footman with you, and gave me seven 
golden louis. 

'^ Another day you drove up to my door in your carriage and 
sent your footman to inquire for me. I came down and saw Father 
Loth and the Baron de Villeroy with you in the carriage. I asked 
you for four hundred livres, which I wanted to pay to Gentil, my 



d'oliva receives some money on account. 95 

upholsterer. Some days aftewards, Father Loth called for me, and 
we went together to Gentil and paid him the money. 

"On another occasion your friend Villette brought me three 
hundred livres from you. 

" Another day I sent my servant to you, according to previous 
arrangement, when you paid her three thousand francs in notes of 
one thousand francs each."^ 

Thus it will be seen that she was only paid 4,268 of the 15,000 
livres promised to her, and that by bit-by-bit instalments. Schemers 
and sharpers, if they had gold mines at their disposal, would never 
pay in any other way. 

' " M^moire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d'Oliva," p. 34. 



&6 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND KECKLACB. 



XY. 

1784. Nov. 

GRAND DOINGS AT BAR-SUR-AUBE. 

The sudden possession of a large sum of money produced in the 
countess an invincible desire to return for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, 
where a few years previously she had suffered so much poverty, but 
where she could now display a little pomp. Late in the autumn of 
1 784, young Beugnot received a very amiable letter from Madame 
de la Motte, in which she announced to him that having several 
days to spare, she was about to spend them at Bar-sur-Aube with 
her friends. " She informed me, in an easy off-hand manner," ob- 
serves the count, " that she had sent in advance her carriage and 
saddle-horses, which would be five days on the road, as she had been 
recommended not to fatigue them, and that she herself would 
arrive two days afterwards. She apprised her sister-in-law, Madame 
de la Tour, of her coming in much the same terms, and gave her 
certain particular directions as to the lodging of herself and suite. 
Madame de la Tour came to me quite bewildered, and asked me 
what it all meant, to which I replied that I was as much in the 
dark as she was. Having compared letters, we agreed that there 
was a mystification of the worst kind about the affair, but resolved 
that we would not be duped, and that no preparations should be 
made for lodging the princess and her suite, and moreover that we 
would both preserve strict silence with reference to the letters we 
had received. 

How great was our joint astonishment when on the appointed 
day we beheld a large heavily-laden waggon, drawn by a fine 
team, and followed by two led horses of great value, drive into 
the town. A steward who arrived with the waggon instantly gave 
orders for more provisions than would have sufficed to victual the 
best house in the town for a period of six months. People stared 
at each other when they met in the streets^ and wondered what this 



PAST AND PRESENT ASPECTS OF BAR-SUR-AUBE. 97 

new chapter in the * Arabian Nights ' could possibly mean, and 
were still wondering when the Count and Countess de la Motte, 
preceded by two outriders in handsome liveries, drove leisurely 
through the main street of Bar-sur-Aube in a very elegant her- 
line." ^ Two years before they had left the place with borrowed 
money and no other clothes but those they had on ; now they 
returned in their own carriage, with their couriers and saddle- 
horses, and actually required a waggon to convey their wardrobe ! 

The town of Bar-sur-Aube, on the banks of the river, the name 
of which it bears, is built partly on the slope of a mountain and 
partly in a valley, and has on its mountain side the remains of 
some extensive Eoman fortifications said to have been constructed 
by Csesar during his invasion of Gaul, In by-gone times the town 
was encompassed by a massive stone wall, and had its moats, ram- 
parts, and four ancient gateways, with a garrison of arquebusiers 
and militiamen. Its fortifications, however, have been long since 
demolished, and pleasant gardens now occupy their site. At the 
present day Bar-sur-Aube boasts several ancient churches and 
chapels containing handsome carved altar-pieces, and many curious 
antique monuments, and has also its convents, hospitals, college, 
and theatre. 

The one object of historical interest that commonly attracts the 
attention of strangers is the little Gothic chapel in the centre of the 
old stone bridge of seven arches which spans the river Aube, built 
to mark the spot where, upwards of four centuries since, Charles 
VII. caused the Bastard de Bourbon, chief of the gang of ecor- 
cheurs (flayers) — so called because they stripped the unfortunate 
wretches that chanced to fall into their hands of every particle of 
clothing, and who had for a long time ravaged the Champagne — to 
be sewn up in a sack and drowned in the river beneath. In the old 
parts of the town the houses are chiefly of wood, and some of the 
more picturesque among them have large figures of saints forming 
their supports. Most of those erected during the last eighty or 
ninety years, however, are built entirely of stone. The outskirts 
of Bar-sur-Aube are planted with trees, and laid out in public 
walks, gardens, and orchards ; beyond which a chain of low hills, 

» " Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 33, 34. 
G 



98 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

covered with vines or dense plantations of foliage, gives a pictur- 
esque aspect to the surrounding country. Owing to the favourable 
situation of the town and the productive nature of the adjacent 
districts, Bar-sur-Aube does an extensive trade in various kinds of 
grain, horses, cattle, wine, brandy, fruit, wool, leather, linen, iron^ 
glass, pottery, and stone and timber for building purposes. . 

Bar-sur-Aube has something of a history of its own, for it has 
been the scene of several stirring historical events. It was occu- 
pied by the Romans during their invasion of Gaul, was ravaged by 
Attila, and was pillaged by our own Edward III. in 1360. About 
four centuries later the inhabitants of Bar-sur-Aube welcomed with 
great display Louis the Well-Beloved when he passed through the 
town on his return from the siege of Fribourg. In January, 1814, 
the Allies, then marching upon Paris, appeared before Bar-sur- 
Aube, and after a series of hard-fought engagements forced Marshal 
Mortier, who held the town, to beat a rapid retreat under cover of 
the night. While in the occupation of the Allies, a conference of 
the ministers of the different powers was held at Bar-sur-Aube, 
when Lord Castlereagh resolutely refused all subsidies to the vacil- 
lating Bernadotte unless he agreed to support Marshal Blucher with 
two corps d^armee, and so enable the Allies to continue their march 
upon Paris. At this period there were three crowned heads, the 
Emperors of Russia and Austria, and the King of Prussia, installed 
in comparatively humble lodgings in this second-rate provincial 
town. After the battle of Montmirail, on the 11th of February, 
the Allies, w^ho were retreating, turned and made a stand, and 
compelled the French army to retire across the river Aube. On 
this occasion the town was twice taken and retaken after several 
severe engagements. In the year following, about three weeks 
after the battle of Waterloo, the Allies, to the number of 200,000 
strong, again appeared before Bar-sur-Aube. This time there was 
no enemy to face them, so they quietly took possession of the 
place, and levied heavy contributions on the inhabitants, leaving a 
garrison of a couple of thousand men behind them, when they pur- 
sued their unopposed march upon Paris.^ 

^ "Essais Historiques sur la Ville de Bar-sur-Aube," etc., par J. F. G., 
and *' Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube," par L. Chevalier. 



M. DE LA TOUE's CUTTING SAECASMS. 99 

The De la Mottes spend several weeks at Bar-sur-Aube, give 
grand dinner and supper parties to those who consent to visit them, 
discharge all their debts with the cardinal's money, and assume all 
the airs of genuine nobility. Most of the inhabitants eat their 
meat and drink their wine without instituting any curious in- 
quiries as to the source of their strange prosperity ; but there was 
one whose piercing intelligence penetrated every outward vanity, 
whose keen eye discerned the truth then more distinctly than 
others have done since, after the exposure of a long trial by the 
Court of Parliament, and the still more searching investigations of 
fifty historians. This sagacious man was M. de la Tour, who had 
married the count's sister. When he dined at the De la Motte 
table, the countess herself, to whom all others submitted, quailed 
beneath his cutting sarcasms. 

"I chanced to be alone with M. de la Tour," says- Beugnot, 
"on the day of Madame de la Motto's arrival. *Am I not a 
thousand times right,' said he to me, 'when I assert that Paris 
contains the worst persons in the world ? In what other place, I 
ask you, would this little vixen and her big lanky husband have 
been able to obtain by swindling the things which they are dis- 
playing before our astonished eyes ? Your good father excepted ' 
— Beugnot's father, it will be remembered, had lent the De la 
Mottes a thousand livres a few years previously — ' whom would 
they have found here willing to lend them a crown ? and yet in 
half an hour they have unpacked more silver plate than there is 
in the whole town besides, not even excepting the chalices and 
ornaments of the altar.' . . . *Do you not know,' remarked I, 
* that Madame de la Motte is protected by the queen ? ' ' I'll say 
nothing as to the queen's protection,' replied La Tour. * Between 
you and me, the wife of our lord the king is not the most prudent 
person in the world ; still she is not such a fool as to have any- 
thing to do w4th people of their stamp, I warrant.' " 

The evening after the De la Mottes' arrival they gave a supper 
to a few intimate friends, which, according to Beugnot, would have 
been considered magnificent for any kind of guests even in Paris. 
" Although the town of Bar-sur-Aube," observes he, " is one of the 
most ancient cities of the Gauls, never perhaps had such luxury 
been seen in it before, not even when Ceesar did it the honour of 



100 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

stopping there to hang — as they say — the mayor and councillors 
of that epoch. Faithful to an understanding we had previously 
come to, La Tour and I ate with good appetites, and without tak- 
ing particular notice of anything, as though, in fact, we were both 
accustomed to such festivities. We kept the conversation in our 
own hands, taking care to confine it to subjects which rendered it 
difficult for the most expert talker to interpose a remark in praise 
of any of the things spread before us. M. de la Motte did not like 
this ; he wished to make us admire the dinner-service, which was 
of a new pattern, and of very fine workmanship. La Tour con- 
tended that services of this kind had been known for a very long 
time, but had gone out on account of their clumsiness. The nil 
admirari was persevered in with respect to everything, and to the 
very end. 

" At last Madame de la Motte thought she had found grace in 
our eyes in praising a fowl, one of the finest which had just been 
removed from the table, informing us at the same time that she 
had ordered the courier to bring her a supply of this kind of 
poultry so long as she remained at Bar-sur-Aube, because to her 
taste ordinary country fowls w^ere not eatable. *I ask your 
pardon, madam,' interposed La Tour, in a serious tone, *but I 
am by no means of your opinion. I consider a country capon such 
as you have been speaking of, when properly 'fattened, to be vastly 
superior to all your Normandy and Mans cocks and pullets, the 
flesh of which is soft, insipid, and dripping with fat. But after the 
capon has been fed on a good plan, it must be roasted in a proper 
mannor, and for this purpose I care little about the jack. I very 
much prefer to have the spit turned by a boy of the family, or even 
by a dog.' 

" Madame de la Motte lost patience at the sort of honour paid 
to her by her husband's relation before four tall footmen who had 
been brought from Paris clothed in liveries covered with gold lace. 
* Sir,' said she to La Tour, in a spiteful manner, ' I feel edified at 
your preference ; it is the result of a country taste which we know 
you carry to its fullest extent.' * I agree with you there, madam,' 
replied La Tour ; * country taste or family taste are much the 
same, and you know, madam, I value one just as much as I do the 
other.' 



MADAME DB LA MOTTe's AIRS AND GRACES. 101 

" This conversation shortened supper. * How do you think I 
have paid my score ? ' inquired La Tour of me in a low tone of 
voice. * You have been almost too liberal/ replied I. * Not at 
all ; only I was resolved to put down both husband and wife should 
they have the impertinence to ask me to admire anything. The 
masquerade which has commenced this evening is a sort of triumph 
for these people, and I reserve for myself the part of the soldier 
who on the way tells wholesome truths to the hero of the fes- 
tival !'"i 

Madame de la Motte called Beugnot into her room, and began 
complaining to him of the insolence of her husband's brother-in-law. 
"She told me," says Beugnot, "that her fortune had changed, that 
she was now in a good position, both as regarded herself and those 
belonging to her, and that we were all interested in adopting a 
different manner towards her. She hinted something of the very 
high connection she was keeping up at Versailles, and ended by 
remarking that she did not think she could remain with us the 
fortnight she had promised herself. I proffered her a first example 
of the new style of behaviour which she desired by not asking her 
a single question. I merely undertook to beg her brother-in-law 
to be more prudent for the future, without, however, anticipating 
much success from my intervention." 

The third day of the countess's sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube was 
occupied by her in paying visits to people in the neighbourhood. 
She dressed herself out with all the taste which can result from an 
excess of magnificence, her robes being of the finest Lyons em- 
broidery, and she herself sparkling with diamonds. She had, more- 
over, a complete set of topazes, which she also took care to display. 
" She made herself," says Beugnot, " almost ridiculously engaging 
and familiar with the neighbouring nobility and gentry. Great 
and small were alike enchanted with her. They returned her 
visits, but when she wished to go further, and give some little fetes, 
the respectable women of the place excused themselves under various 
pretexts, and Madame de la Motte found herself reduced to the 
young men and the women of her husband's family, so thorough 
was the respect for manners at this time in a little provincial town. 

* An evident allusion to the ancient Roman triumphs. 



102 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

* Madame de la Motte,' said these good ladies to me, *is a charming 
woman, and we like her very much ; but why do you wish us to 
give our girls ideas of which they have no need, and which will 
perhaps awaken in them desires they can never gratify?' 

"I was wanting," resumes Beugnot, " neither in respect nor dis- 
cretion towards Madame de la Motte. She seemed to have 
completely forgotten our old relations, and on this point I was in 
unison with her. I had become to her simply a well-bred man with 
whom she could speak on any subject. She told me of the secret 
vexations she endured through the deplorable position of her 
husband's family. I consoled her as well as I could, always 
observing to her that a residence in a little town was in her case 
quite a mistake — that she ought to have an hotel at Paris and 
a chateau in the country. She replied that she did not wish 
to buy land, because she was about to obtain the estates belonging 
to her family, on which she proposed to build. The hotel in Paris 
she allowed to pass without notice, but she admitted that she 
wished to possess one at Bar-sur-Aube, where she could spend the 
summer months until her projected chateau was built. I took the 
liberty of opposing this idea of purchasing a house at Bar-sur- 
Aube, and maintained that it would be in far better taste to 
inhabit a cottage while the chateau was being built by its side ; 
but Madame de la Motte, who had already received many valuable 
lessons on this subject, did not the less persist in her desire to 
display her magnificence in those places which had been witnesses 
of her former misery. She purchased, in spite of my remonstrances, 
a house at Bar-sur-Aube, for which she paid twice as much as it, 
was worth, and then gave it up to architects, who considered it 
their duty to commit all the stupidities which the property ad- 
mitted of, and a few more."^ 

"As the period of the countess's sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube drew 
to a close, people grew angry with those who had held aloof from 
visiting her. M. de la Tour alone underwent no change. I had 
begged of him to consider the notable alteration which opulence, 
though sudden, had wrought in the manners and behaviour of both 
the count and countess. ' I half agree with you,' replied he. 

* ** M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 35, et seq. 



M. DE LA TOUR IS NOT TO BE IMPOSED ON. 103 

* The wife is a hussy who has gained in penetration ; but the 
husband has lost in every way — he left us a fool and comes back 
to us a coxcomb. I persist in thinking badly of them, and even in 
speaking badly of them, so long as they do not reveal to me 
by what honest means they have acquired in the short space of six 
months what we now know them to be possessed of. Whom will 
they or you persuade that the king, the queen, the Count d'Artois, 
the controleur-general — in a word, I know not what powerful 
persons — have thrown heaps of gold to people who simply asked 
for bread ? The age I know is fertile in extravagance, "but not 
exactly of this kind. Husband and wife have spread a little report 
around that madame is in favour with the queen. I have noticed 
them at this for the last fortnight, and if they had mentioned 
a single w^ord of it in my presence, I had a little story ready 
for them about the Countess de Gazon^ and the Queen of Congo 
w^ith which I should have made all the lookers-on laugh at their 
expense. 

" ' My dear friend,' continued La Tour, ' they are altogether 
far too impertinent, and it is really shameful that people should 
be duped so cheaply. Believe every word they say if you please, 
but for my part I adhere to what I know. Now I know, through 
you, that madame has relations with the Cardinal de Eohan, 
since she has been conveyed five or six times to his eminence's 
hotel at your expense. Possibly she has since been transported 
there on her own light foot. Of all the acquaintances of this fine 
lady, the Cardinal de Eohan is the only one to whom prodigality 
on a grand scale is not impossible. There are then two con- 
clusions — either he has supplied the money for all that we see, or 
else it has been stolen from him. I ask your pardon for the 
second horn of my dilemma, but only on condition that you grant 
me the first ; and yet I confess I can only with great difficulty 
understand how a little village hussy like her can have succeeded 
in seducing a prince, a prelate, and a scape-grace of such im- 
portance."^ 

A few days before her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countess 



A pun upon La Motte. 

"M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 41, et seq. 



104 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

placed in the hands of young Beugnot a rouleau of fifty louis in 
discharge of certain small loans which he had at various times 
accommodated her with. *' I explained to her," remarks Beugnot, 
"that I could not say exactly what she owed me, but that I was 
quite certain the amount was below 1200 livres.^ * Nevertheless 
take it,' replied she ; * and if there is anything over, give it to your 
mother for her poor pensioners.'" Beugnot, on making up the 
account, found he had been paid twenty louis too many, which in 
accordance with the countess's instructions he handed over to his 
mother. So favourable and lasting an impression did this act of 
generosity make on Madame Beugnot, that she could never after- 
wards be brought to believe in the truth of any of the crimes 
charged against this unhappy woman. 

' There were twenty-four livres or francs in the louis of those days. 



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'i. fr//(/ '/ffr,),U^iy&, ycft^'tZ/e't'c) /<" ^*- <.^\>eyiryt Xj i 



A NEW STYLE OF LIVING INDISPENSABLE. 105 



XVI. 

Dec. 1784— Jan. 1785. 

the diamond necklace is sold at last. 

The countess and her husband, the steward and the four tall foot- 
men, the led horses and the baggage waggon, the outriders and the 
elegant berime, returned to Paris at the close of November, 1784, 
when the De la Mottes proceeded, after all their desperate 
struggles towards this end, to enter at last into the coveted gaieties 
of the rank and fashion of the most brilliant capital in Europe. 
At the outset they did not share their good fortune with their 
sister, who was still passing a dull time of it at the Abbey of Jarcy. 
All they seem to have done was to resign to her the right of peti- 
tioning in the name of Valois, for on the 30th of November in this 
same year we find her making one of those stereotyped appeals for 
assistance, for which the family had now become notorious, to the 
Abbe Bourbon, natural son of Louis XV.^ Irritated no doubt at 
her having refused to part with her pension, husband and wife de- 
termined to leave her to herself to enjoy in retirement its extremely 
slender benefits. 

Suddenly grown rich in the queen's name, after having success- 
fully established a very general belief in her pretended intimacy 
with royalty, the countess's instinctive tact led her to perceive 
that a new style of living was indispensable on her part to main- 
tain the delusion, and keep alive that credit which she intended 
employing as the basis of still larger operations. The very ex- 
travagance to which she was naturally inclined became conse- 
quently one of the chief elements in her system of deceit. It was 
no longer " alms " that she contemplated asking from a caiTiage, 
since she had made the discovery that credulity was a mine which, 
properly worked, would furnish a far richer yield than charity was 
ever likely to do. 

^ This letter of Mademoiselle de Saint-E,emi's has obtained the honour of 
being preserved among the historical autographs in the National Archives. 



'1CF6 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Beugnot tells us that on his return to Paris he was confirmed 
in his opinion that the opulence of Madame de la Motte was due 
to her intimate connection with the Cardinal de Rohan, and that 
he regulated his conduct towards her accordingly. " I presented 
myself," remarks he, " at her door with discretion : I went to dine 
at her house only when she did me the honour of inviting me ; 
and I took care to put her at her ease by affecting respect towards 
her. On her part she made me acquainted with her various pro- 
jects, setting them out before me with that negligence which pre- 
supposes the certainty of success. She intended, for instance, to 
withdraw her brother from the navy — an ungrateful and stupid 
service in times of peace ; a regiment had been promised her for 
him. As for her husband, she had purchased him a step which 
■would at once give him captain's rank, and she would by-and-by 
see if she could not get him named second colonel. With regard 
to her sister, she would not hear of her doing as she herself had 
done — in other words, contracting some stupid marriage. If agree- 
able to her, she should be canoness at Douxieres or Poulangy, as 
all the places at Remiremont were bespoken for ten years to come. 
' If,' remarked she, ' I had espoused a man of name, and one who 
frequented the coiirt, that would have been of some use to me. I 
should then have got on much quicker ; as it is, my husband is to 
me rather an obstacle than a means. It is necessary that I should 
do something to make my name rank before his, which is, you 
know, contrary to all decorum.' 

"When I visited Madame de la Motte, she never failed to intro- 
duce me to the company as a young magistrate, and always placed 
me immediately after the titled people. The tone of the house 
was, at least in those days, that of good company. I met there 
the Marquis de Saisseval, then a great gambler, rich, and currying 
favour with the court ; the Abbe de Cabres, councillor in the Paris 
Parliament ; Rouille d'Orfeuil, intendant of the Champagne ; the 
Count d'Estaing, one of the heroes of the American war, and 
subsequently in command of the National Guards of Versailles, 
when the chateau was stormed by the mob ; the Baron de Villeroy, 
an officer of the king's body-guard ; the receiver-general Dorcy ; 
and Lecoulteux de la Noraye, who, while aspiring to the post of 
director of the countess's affairs and finances, dreamed of being one 



THE AMATORY CARDINAL AGAIN LAID UNDER CONTRIBUTION. 107 

day appointed cont7'dleur-general of the finances of the nation, and 
who considered himself altogether * a most important personage, 
though he had only jast wit enough to be nothing worse than a 
fool.' " La Noraye was no favourite with Beugnot, who in after 
years knocked him down on a particular occasion for playing him 
some shabby trick when they were fellow-prisoners in La Force dur- 
ing the days of the Terror.^ 

All the while that madame and her husband were showing off at 
Bar-sur-Aube, the cardinal was moping at Saverne, fretfully pacing 
up and down a favourite walk in the episcopal pleasure-grounds, 
which he had named the " Promenade de la Rose," in honour of the 
gracious gift of counterfeit royalty at the midnight interview in 
the park of Versailles. This walk, which led from the palace to 
the neighbouring woods, had gone by the name of the " Route de 
Bonheur " (road of happiness), until the cardinal, to whom happi- 
ness still seemed hovering in the future, gave it its new designa- 
tion.^ He had been banished to Saverne in remote Alsace by one 
of those billets bordered with vignettes hleues, penned by the forger 
Villette, so that he might be out of the way while the De la Mottes 
were enjoying themselves in their country retreat. 

On the countess's return to Paris, the correspondence between 
the cardinal and the phantom queen is speedily resumed. The 
letters that are now interchanged are more familiar and are even 
tender. The amatory prelate, we may be certain, complained that 
the last meeting was too brief, implored permission to return to the 
capital, and begged for another interview. Replies were doubtless 
sent, exhorting him to be discreet, and promising to comply with 
his request at some future period. One thing, however, is quite 
certain : it was at this time that madame applied for and obtained 
in the queen's name from the cardinal the 100,000 livres, of which 
we have already spoken, for of the 50,000 livres received in August 
last every sou of course was spent. 

All this while plans are being perfected for the successful carry- 
ing out of that grand scheme of fraud, which not only caused the 
greatest commotion throughout France, but may be said to have 



' ''Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 45, et seq., 259, 260, 262. 
* " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 92. 



108 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

startled the entire civilized world by its audacity. The first in- 
cidents of the new intrigue appear to have been congenial. Some 
hanger-on of the countess's would seem to have sought out an 
emissary of the crowni jewellers, employed to find a purchaser for 
the famed Diamond Necklace with the prospect of a commission for 
himself, and whispered in his ear that the Countess de la Motte was 
privately received by the queen, with whom she had both credit 
and influence, but that unusual reasons existed for not speaking 
publicly of this intimacy. He thought, however, that the countess, 
if she could only be induced to undertake the negotiation, was a 
very likely person to prevail upon the queen to buy the Necklace. 
This suggestion was duly reported to Bohmer and Bassenge, after 
which it appears the former waited on Madame de la Motte at her 
own house and exhibited the matchless jewel. Everything else 
followed in due course. 

Though evidently interwoven with those strange fabrications in 
which the countess delighted to indulge, her own relation of this 
first stage in the great fraud has a certain air of probability about 
it, and furnishes us with the ends of some of the threads in this 
entangled web. After citing the name of a speculator and schemer 
named Laporte, who was always hatching new projects for making 
money, and whom she had been the means of introducing to the 
cardinal with the view of drawing him into some of Laporte's grand 
undertakings, she observes : " This Laporte was a very active 
person, and constantly at my house ; I had stood godmother to one 
of his children. Achette, his father-in-law, was an intimate friend 
of Bohmer 's. One day, when the two latter were at Versailles, 
Achette said to Bohmer, * Are you still saddled with your Neck- 
lace ? ' * Unfortunately I am,' answered Bohmer ; ' it is a heavy 
burden to me — I would gladly give a thousand louis to any one 
who could find me a purchaser for it.' It is most probable that 
from the date of this conversation my name was mentioned, Achette 
explaining to Bohmer how his son-in-law, Laporte, had access to 
me, and through me to the cardinal. 

" One day Laporte having dined at my house, mentioned to me, 
for the first time, the fatal Necklace, observing that he rested all 
his hopes on me ; that if I would only say a word to the queen, he 
was convinced her majesty would make the purchase, and that the 



MADAME WILL DO THE JEWELLERS SOME SERVICE. 109 

jewellers were ready to enter into any arrangements that might be 
agreeable to her." 

On this occasion, as well as on a subsequent one, the countess 
informs us that she declined to interfere, and though urgently 
pressed, would not listen to the suggestion. A third attempt to 
induce her to undertake the negotiation was afterwards made, she 
tells us, when Bohmer came to her house with Achette, bringing 
the Necklace along with him. 

" * Is it not a pity,' said Achette to me, * that so magnificent a 
jewel should leave the kingdom whilst we have a queen whom it 
would so well become, and whom, I am sure, must at heart long to 
possess it 1 ' 

" ' I don't know that,' answered I ; * nor can I understand why 
you have iapplied to me to transmit your proposals to her majesty. 
I protest to you I have no opportunity of submitting them to her, 
not having the honour of approaching her.' 

" * Madame,' replied Achette, with a look full of meaning, * we 
are not come hither to pry into your secrets, still less to evince any 
doubt respecting what you do us the honour to tell us ; but believe 
me I am well acquainted with Versailles ; I know what is going on 
there ; and when I took the liberty of introducing my friend to 
you, it was because I felt convinced that if you would honour him 
with your support, nobody at court is better able to render him the 
service we make bold to solicit.' 

" Bohmer's mouth was open : I saw he was going to speak to me 
of his gratitude ; so, to get rid of them both, I told them I would 
see if, by means of my connections, I could contrive indirectly to 
render them some service."^ 

These visits took place at the end of December. In January, 
1785, the countess contrives to insinuate to the crown jewellers, 
through some of her high-class connections, that the queen really 
does desire to have the Necklace. She openly states as much to 
the cardinal, whom, in the very depth of a bitterly-cold winter, she 
has summoned to Paris by the aid of a courier armed with one of 
those well-known and highly-prized billets, gilt-edged, or bordered 
with vignettes bleues, in which the queen is made to say : " The 

* ** M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 75, e/ seg. 



110 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

wished-for moment has not yet arrived, but I desire to hasten your 
return on account of a secret negotiation which interests me per- 
sonally, and which I am unwilling to confide to any one but your- 
self. The Countess de la Motte will explain the meaning of this 
enigma." 

After reading this letter the cardinal longed for wings ; still he 
was obliged to content himself with such fleet coursers as the 
maitres de posfe along the line of road to the capital could provide 
him with. So, well wrapped up in furs, and snugly ensconced in 
the corner of a comfortable close travelling carriage, he is soon 
rolling rapidly over the two hundred and eighty miles of frost- 
bound road that intervene between the episcopal palace of Saverne 
and the Kue Neuve-Saint-Gilles ; and, no sooner has he learned the 
solution of the enigma, and procured from the countess the address 
of the crown jewellers — at the sign of the " Grand Balcony," Rue 
Vendome — than, puffed up with the importance of the commission 
intrusted to him, he hies to Bohmer and Bassenge to open negotia- 
tions with them for the purchase of the costly gem. The cardinal 
had not far to go, for the Rue Vendome (now the Rue Beranger) 
was only some ten minutes' walk from his hotel, being situated 
but a single street from the junction of the Rue Vieille-du-Temple 
with the Rue St. Louis (now the Rue Turenne). At the present 
day many of the houses have bee J rebuilt, and of those which were 
in existence at the time of our narrative^ only a couple in any way 
answer to the sign " Azc Grand Balcon," adopted by the crown 
jewellers. These are Nos. 11 and 22; the former — for the time 
being the Mairie of the 3rd Arrondissement — is a handsome build- 
ing with an ornamental ironwork balcony in front, and having 
before it an open court, which one has no difficulty in picturing 
filled with the grand equipages and liveried lacqueys of the 
customers of our friends Bohmer and Bassenge. 

In the excitement of conversation the grand almoner indiscreetly 
blurted out what he believed to be the fact, although he had been 
strictly enjoined to keep it secret, namely, that the queen was the 
actual purchaser of the jewel, but her name was on no account to 

^ This and similar allusions to localities connected with nnr narrative 
refer to the year 1866. 



THE JEWELLERS ARE CAUTIONED TO MAKE THEMSELVES SECURE. Ill' 

transpire in the business. The price eventually agreed upon for 
the Necklace was 1,600,000 livres (£64:,000), to be paid in four 
instalments of equal amount at intervals of six months : the first 
instalment of 400,000 livres to fall due in August. But the 
crown jewellers, who had been advised to be cautious in dealing 
with the cardinal, required that the contract should be authorized 
by the royal signature. To account for this demand, they ex- 
plained to the cardinal that they had heavy debts and liabilities 
which prevented them from parting with an asset of so much 
value without replacing it with adequate vouchers to satisfy their 
creditors — notably M. Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general 
of the navy, to whom they Avere indebted in no less a sum than 
800,000 livres,^ and who had waited so long and so patiently. 

Strange to say, the person w^ho had cautioned the jewellers to 
act so guardedly was the great intrigante herself. Accompanied 
by her husband she had called upon Bohmer and Bassenge at 
seven o'clock on a raw January morning, a couple of hours or so 
before the cardinal, to announce his coming, when, after having 
reminded them that she had been no party to the transaction, she 
proceeded to recommend them not to come to terms without 
binding down the cardinal in such a manner as to make themselves 
secure.^ That she took this step, so likely to frustrate her own 
object, was afterwards proved a', the trial. Most persons would 
have thought that the probability of such a proceeding being fatal 
to her plans would have prevented her, if she meditated a fraud, 
acting in the way she did ; but does not the reader perceive that 
this most subtle of impostors had thereby secured, by anticipation, 
a strong plea in her favour to disprove her guilt? 

The obtaining the queen's signature to the contract necessarily 
gave rise to some delay. The cardinal sent the deed as he 
believed to Marie-Antoinette through Madame de la Motte, with 
the intimation that it was only a form, and would be merely 
shown to the jewellers, and not delivered up to them. The 
countess, however, returns with the deed unsigned. Koyalty is in 
dudgeon at its sacred name having been made use of. The grand 

^ " Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Roban." 
= Deposition de Bassenge. 



112 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACK 

almouer was greatly distressed at this new obstacle, which he 
thought her majesty was inclined to aggravate ; but what was to 
be done 1 

Madame de la Motte returns a second time from Versailles, and 
pretends to have had a second audience with Marie-Antoinette. 
The queen, she says, was very angry with the cardinal for having 
introduced her name into the transaction, but had insinuated : 

" If inspiring confidence is all that is requisite, could not the 
cardinal have devised some other mode ? The cardinal is perhaps 
not aware of it, but I may tell you that I have bound myself by a 
formal engagement with the king not to sign any deed without his 
knowledge. So the thing you see is impossible. Contrive between 
you what you can do, or else renounce the purchase altogether. 
... It seems to me that, as this document is only a formality, and 
as these people do not know my handwriting . . . But you will 
reflect upon it ; still, once for all, I cannot sign it. At all events, 
tell the cardinal that the first time I shall see him I will communi- 
cate to him the arrangements I intend to make with him." * 

The countess then explains that, returning home after this in- 
terview, and not reflecting on the serious consequences of using 
the queen's name in the manner suggested, she resolves to counter- 
feit the royal signature, and for that purpose applies to Retaux de 
Villette, the forger of the letters which to the last the countess 
always maintained to be genuine. 

" I explained to M. de Villette," she says, " the new aspect 
which this affair had assumed, the cardinal's perplexity, the queen's 
dissatisfaction, the interview I had had with her majesty, and the 
meaning I attached to her expression that the jewellers were un- 
acquainted with her handwriting. 

" Villette said, if I was certain that the queen had made use of 
the express words I had just repeated, it would appear to him, as 
it had appeared to me, that she wished me to understand it did 
not much signify whose hand inscribed the attestation, since the 
jewellers did not know her handwriting. 'But,' added he, 
* neither the queen nor yourself suspect the risk a person runs by 
counterfeiting writings. That is an act which the law has in- 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. pp. 340, 341, 



MARIE. ANTOINETTE DE FRANCE. 113 

eluded in the list of crimes under the name of forger}'-. We can 
however do this. Taking for granted the statement of the queen, 
that these people do not know her handwriting, it may be fairly 
supposed that they are equally ignorant of her form of signature. 
To sign Marie-Antoinette alone, according to your idea, would be a 
positive forgery ; but the metamorphosis of an Austrian princess 
into a French one — to say, for instance, Marie-Antoinette de France 
— would really be unmeaning. If our object was to obtain this 
Necklace by a swindle, when the imposture came to be exposed 
such a signature would serve as a proof of it ; but as we have 
no reasonable doubt but that the jewellers will be paid, since they 
will have the cardinal's guarantee privately supported by that of 
the queen, I think we may, without much fear of committing our- 
selves, submit to the necessity ; I will therefore do what I now 
explain to you. 

" ' First, I shall not disguise my own writing ; and, secondly, I 
will give the queen the incorrect title of Marie-Antoinette de 
France. The contract being exhibited by the cardinal to Bohmer 
and Bassenge, they will not examine it too minutely, I'll be bound; 
and you must promise me to burn it in my presence when the 
jewellers have been paid and the matter is at end.' 

" I gave him my word of honour that I would do this, and he 
signed the deed according to our covenant. I left him directly 
afterwards and drove at onCe to the cardinal. At first I intended 
to give him the contract approved and signed, without telling him 
how I had settled matters ; but I reflected that Villette and I 
were not the safest judges ; that the affair might be more serious 
than we imagined, and that if such were the case the cardinal 
might be placed in an embarrassing position. So I resolved to 
tell him all." 

Thereupon, according to Madame de la Motto's version, the 
cardinal was informed of the forgery, and of the incorrectness of the 
signature, after he had seen the contract without detecting either. 
He acquiesced, we are told by the countess, in the fraud, merely 
observing that " since he had been deceived by it, it would be the 
same with the jewellers." ^ 

^ *' M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. £3^ ^t seq., and 
** Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 344 let .seq. 



114 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Such is the specious explanation given by Madame de la Motte 
of the forgery of the queen's signature to the contract. But 
amidst this farrago of falsehood — for there can be no doubt the 
queen's signature was appended in the absurd form described, owing 
to the ignorance of this pair of sharpers ^ the simple truth remains 
that the deluded cardinal, hoping thereby to please the queen, had 
bought the Necklace of the jewellers on his own guarantee for one 
million six hundred thousand francs, bapked with this fraudulent 
signature of Marie-Antoinette's. The contract had been drawn up 
with great care by the cardinal himself, and was written with his 
own hand, since the matter was of coiu"se of too secret a nature to 
be intrusted to a professional engrosser ; and, after having been 
exhibited to Bohmer and Bassenge for their private satisfaction, it 
was left in the cardinal's keeping. The unfortunate dupe of 
course believed he still held possession of the royal guarantee, the 
grotesque inventions to the contrary of Madame de la Motte, 
which we have just laid before the reader, being of no further 
moment than to expose her own duplicity. The confidence and 
mental satisfaction of the jewellers when they read the contract, 
ratified by majesty itself, was equal to that felt by the cardinal, 
" They read it," says the Kohan memorial, " and appeared full of 
joy ; they then returned it, but the cardinal requested them to 
take a copy of it, which they had not thought of doing. This 
copy they made themselves without the slightest doubt being 
raised in their minds by the strangeness of the signature." 

We may instance as another proof of the countess's prompt 
mode of action, that by the end of January, 1785, the whole aflfair 
was settled — in fact within six weeks after she had promised " to 
see if she could not contrive indirectly to render the jewellers 
some service;" the famous Diamond Necklace which had been to 
them a source of grave anxiety for years was off" their hands. 

^ Madame Campan states that " Vu hon. — Marie- Antoinette" was the form 
in which the queen certified the accuracy of an account. 



CAGLIOSTRO GREATLY IMPRESSES THE CARDINAL. 115 



XYII. 

1781-1785. 

CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO. 

When, in the autumn of the year 1781, the De la Mottes were 
chasing the Marchioness de Boulainvilliers, who they had heard 
was at Strasbourg, the notorious Cagliostro was astonishing the 
good people of that famous town as much by his singular conduct 
as by the extraordinary cures he was represented to have per- 
formed. " Curious to behold so remarkable a personage, the 
cardinal," who was then at his episcopal palace of Saverne, " went 
over to Strasbourg, but found it necessary to use interest to get 
admitted into the presence of the illustrious charlatan. ' If mon- 
seigneur the. cardinal is sick,' said he, ' let him come to me and I 
will cure him. If he is well, he has no business with me nor I 
with him.' This reply, far from offending the cai:TUnars vanity, 
only increased the desire he had to become acquainted with this 
new Esculapius. Having at length gained admission to his sanc- 
tuary, the cardinal fancied he saw impressed on the countenance 
of this mysterious and taciturn individual, a dignity so imposing 
that he felt himself penetrated with an almost religious awe, and 
the very first words he uttered were inspired by reverence. The 
interview, which was but brief, excited more strongly than ever in 
the mind of the cardinal the desire of a more intimate acquaint- 
ance. This gradually came about, the crafty empiric timing his 
conduct and his advances so skilfully, that without.seeming to de- 
sire it he gained the grand almoner's entire confidence, and obtain- 
ed the greatest ascendency over him."^ 

During the next two years or so, Cagliostro seems to have macle 
the episcopal palace at Saverne his home whenever he felt so 
inclined. When the cardinal happened to be there, the count 
amused him by performing experiments in the laboratory which 

' " M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 47, et seg 



116 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

had been fitted up in a private part of the palace for his especial 
use — making, so the cardinal maintained, not only gold, but dia- 
monds, under his very eyes.^ But when the cardinal was away 
the crucibles were no longer in request, and the count would in- 
dulge in carousals, prolonged far into the night, with the Baron de 
Planta, the cardinal's equerry and confidant, and a black sheep of 
the choicest breed, carousals at which his eminence's matchless 
Tokay flowed like water. ^ 

In the memorial published in his behalf at the time of the 
Necklace trial, Cagliostro gives a most romantic account of himself. 
He is ignorant, he says, of the place of his birth, but was brought 
up while a child in the city of Medina, where he went by the name 
of Acharat, and lived attended by servants in a style of great 
splendour in apartments in the palace of the Mufti Salahayn, the 
chief of the Mussulmans. From Medina, he pretends, he was 
taken when quite a youth to Mecca, where he remained for three 
years petted by the scherif. He is next taken to Egypt, visits the 
chief cities of Africa and Asia, and eventually sails from Rhodes 
for Malta, where apartments are provided for him in the palace of 
the grand master. Here, he says, he assumed the name of Cag- 
liostro and the title of count. From Malta he proceeds to Sicily 
and Naples, thence to Rome, where he mak^s tho acquaintance of 
several cardinals, and is admitted to frequfent audiences of the 
Pope. He professes to have next visited Spain, Portugal, Holland, 
Russia, and Poland, and gives a list of the nobles of these coun- 
tries with whom he had become acquainted. At length, in Sep- 
tember, 1780, he goes to Strasbourg, where his fame as a physician 
had already preceded him. Here, he asserts, with perfect truth, 
he cured the poor generally, and particularly sick soldiers and 
prisoners, without fee or reward. Strasbourg was soon crowded 
with strangers, who came either to see him or to consult him. It 
is now that he makes the acquaintance of the Cardinal de Rohan, 
whom he accompanies to Paris to prescribe for the Prince de 
Soubise, sufifering at the time from an accident to his leg. After 
a short sojourn in the capital he returns to Strasbourg, when being- 
persecuted by a party in the town, it is quite certain that letters 

^ See post, p. 120. 

* " M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'AbbS Georgel, vol. ii. p. 50. 



CAGLIOSTRO'S GENUINE HISTORY, 117 

are written to the authorities in his behalf by the Count de Ver- 
gennes, minister for foreign affairs, the Marquis de Miromenil, 
keeper of the seals, and the Marquis de Segur, minister of war, who 
desire that every protection shall be afforded him. 

Cagliostro's story about his residence in Medina and Mecca, and 
^gyptj Rhodes and Malta, was a tissue of impudent lies. The 
truth is, his real name was Joseph Balsamo, and he was the son of 
a small tradesman of Palermo, in which city he was born in 1743. 
The family were of Jewish origin, and he derived the name of Cag- 
liostro from a great uncle^ In his early youth he belonged to the 
religious order of Charitable Brethren, and as he grew older be- 
came remarkable for his intelligence, cleverness, and cunning. 
Later oh, he appears to have studied medicine with advantage. 

Growing tired of the obscurity of his lot, he forged the title-deed 
to some considerable estate, and on the fraud being discovered 
precipitately embarked for Catalonia where he married a young 
and pretty girl. With her he proceeded to Rome, and having con- 
ferred on himself the title of Prince Pellegrini, with that audacity 
which never deserted him, he returned to Palermo under this as- 
sumed appellation. There a genuine prince became infatuated 
with Donna Lorenza and took her husband under his powerful pro- 
tection. The false Pellegrini, however, was soon recognised as the 
escaped forger and arrested. But on the day appointed for his 
examination, his friend the prince forced the doors of the tribunal, 
assaulted the counsel for the prosecution, and overwhelmed the 
president with reproaches. The consequence was that the terrified 
court set the prisoner at liberty, and Cagliostro, leaving his wife in 
the care of the prince, again started on his travels,^ in the course 
of which he visited many of the chief cities of the Continent. 
He was picked up, it is commonly asserted, while still a yonng 
man — being little over thirty years of age — by the sect of Illumi- 
nati, who thought, and correctly thought, that they had discovered 
in him a willing and able instrument for the dissemination of tlieir 
doctrines. His initiation into the mysteries of Illuminism took 
place in a cave some little distance from Frankfort-on-the-j\Iain, 
when he learnt for the first time that the object of the society of 

^ " Cagliostro's Stammbaum " von Wolfgang von Goethe. 



118 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

which he was now a member, was to overturn the thrones of 
Europe, and that the first blow was to be struck in France ; that 
after the fall of the French monarchy it was proposed to attack 
Rome ; that the society had extensive resources, and was in the 
possession of enormous funds, dispersed among the banks of Am- 
sterdam, Rotterdam, Basle, Lyons, London, Venice, and Genoa, the 
proceeds of the annual subscriptions of its members. A consider- 
able sum of money, which he afterwards pretended he had acquired 
by the practice of alchemy, was at once placed at his disposal, to 
enable him to propagate the doctrines of the sect in Fiance. 
This was the origin of his first visit to Strasbourg in the autumn of 
the year 1780, when he adopted for his device the letters L. P. D. 
signifying Lilia lyedihiis destrue — Trample the lilies under foot.^ 

Cagliostro was one of those individuals who, for reasons of their 
own, envelop themselves in a maze of mystery, and are rarely seen 
through during their lives, because they address themselves to 
men's imaginations alone. By exciting wonder they disarm 
reason. He laid claim to many gifts and acquirements ; had studied 
medicine, was an adept at alchemy, and knew something of natural 
magic. The acts which he performed were so contrived by his 
arts and wiles, that all his visitors (and they comprised persons of 
the highest rank and the utmost intellectual attainments) con- 
sidered them to be marvellous, whilst the gaping multitude magni- 
fied every feat until it went ftir beyond this ideal. He set no price 
on his public exhibitions, and darted looks of wounded honour at 
those who, he pretended, degraded him by offering him gold ; 
whilst his hand was constantly open to the indigent, whom he 
waited on in their humble homes with advice, medicine, and money. 
His widespread acts of benevolence, and the luxurious style in 
which he lived, proved him to be rich, and yet none were able to 
discover the sources of his wealth. The houses of the most opu- 
lent citizens were thrown open to him, and without seeking the 
great, but seeming rather to avoid them, he constantly found him- 
self in their company. Among this class he had many proselytes, 
but none who believed in him so implicitly as the Cardinal Prince 
de Rohan, who, spite of the count's " perfect quack face," seems to 

^ "Louis XVL," par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 154. 



A CHARLATAN SET WITH DIAMONDS. 119 

have worshipped him as a being something more than human. In- 
deed in one of the salons of the Palais-Cardinal there was a marble 
bust of Cagliostro, with a Latin inscription on the pedestal signi- 
fying "God of the Earth." ^ 

A friend of the grand almoner's, the Baroness d'Oberkirche, who 
met Cagliostro at Saverne at this epoch, sketches his portrait for 
us in her " Memoirs," and furnishes us with convincing proofs of 
the singular influence which the count had succeeded in acquiring 
over his credulous patron. " Cagliostro was anything but hand- 
some," she observes, " still I have never seen a more remarkable 
physiognomy ; above all, he had a penetrating look which seemed 
almost supernatural. I know not how to describe the expression 
of his eyes : it was at once fire and ice ; attracted and repelled you 
at the same time ; made you afraid and inspired you with an ir- 
repressible curiosity. One might draw two different portraits of 
him, both resembling him, and yet totally dissimilar. He wore on 
his shirt-front, on his watch-chain, and on his fingers, diamonds of 
large size, and apparently of the purest water. If they were not 
paste, they were worth a king's ransom. He pretended that he had 
made them himself. All this frippery showed the charlatan miles 
off. 

" When Cagliostro perceived me he saluted me very respectfully. 
I returned his salutation without affecting either hauteur or con- 
descension. There were fifteen of us at dinner ; nevertheless, the 
cardinal occupied himself almost exclusively with me, using a sort 
of refined coquetry to bring me over to his way of thinking with 
regard to Cagliostro, with whom he was perfectly infatuated. I 
was placed on the cardinal's right hand, and during dinner he tried 
by every means to enforce his convictions upon me. I resisted, 
politely but firmly ; he grew impatient, and on leaving table volun- 
teered me his confidence. Had I not heard him with my own ears 
I could never have believed that a prince of the Koman church, a 
Eolian, an intelligent and honourable man in so many respects^ 
could have allowed himself to be brought to the point of abjuring 
both his dignity and free will at the bidding of a chevalier dHn- 
dustrie. 

^ ' ' Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte. " 



120 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" 'In truth, baroness, you are very hard to conyince,' remarked 
the cardinal; 'what ! has not all that he has told you, all that I 
have just related, satisfied you ? I must then avow everything. 
Understand, at least, that I am about to confide to you a secret of 
importance.' I was greatly embarrassed. I did not wish to be 
the depositary of any of the cardinal's secrets, and was about to 
excuse myself when, divining my intention, the prince exclaimed : 

* Do not say no ! but listen to me. You see this V 

"'The cardinal showed me a large solitaire which he had on his 
little finger, engraved with the arms of the house of Rohan ; it was 
a ring worth 20,000 francs at least. * It is a fine stone, my lord,' 
observed I ; ' I have been already admiring it.' * Well, it w^as he 
who made it ; created it out of nothing. I saw him myself. I 
was present, with eyes fixed upon the crucible, and assisted at the 
operation. Is this science 1 What do you think of it, baroness 1 
They tell me that he is only luring me on, that he cheats me ; the 
jeweller and engraver have valued this brilliant at 25,000 francs. 
You will at least admit that he is a strange sort of sharper to make 
such presents as this.' 

" I acknowledge I was stupefied. The Prince de Rohan ]3er- 
ceived it, and continued, certain of his victory : ' But this is not 
all : he makes gold ; he has made in my presence, in the crucibles 
of the palace, five or six thousand francs' worth. I shall have 
more of it — I shall, in fact, have any quantity — he wall make me 
the richest prince in Europe. These are not dreams, madam, 
these are certainties. Think, too, of his prophecies fulfilled; of 
the miraculous cures he has performed. I tell you that he is not 
only a most extraordinary, but a sublime man, and one whose 
goodness has never been equalled ; the charities he bestows, the 
benefits he confers, pass all imagination.' 

"'Ami to understand your eminence,' inquired I, 'that you 
have given him nothing for all this — have not made him the small- 
est advance, have made him no promise, given him no Avritten 
document which compromises you? Pardon my curiosity, but 
since you wish to make me a confidant of these mysteries, I ' 

* You are right, madam,' replied the prince, * but I cin assure you 
that he has asked nothing, has received nothing from me.' 'Ah ! 
my lord,' I exclaimed, ' it must be that thi^ man reckons on obtain- 



THE PYTHON MOUNTS HIS TRIPOD. 121 

ing from you many dangerous sacrifices since he buys your un- 
bounded confidence so dearly. Were I in your place I should be 
extremely cautious ; one of these days he will lead you too far.' 
The cardinal only answered by an incredulous smile ; but I am 
certain that later, at the time of the Necklace affair, when Cagli- 
ostro and the Countess de la Motte had cast him to the bottom of 
the abyss, he recalled my words." ^ 

Singularly enough, Cagliostro arrived in Paris just at the time 
the cardinal was making the final arrangements with the crown 
jewellers for the purchase of the Necklace. Whether or no he 
was summoned thither by the cardinal himself we are unable to 
say, but if the Abbe Georgel's statement is to be relied on, it is 
quite certain that the grand almoner consulted Cagliostro respect- 
ing the business of the Necklace prior to concluding the negotia- 
tions. The abbe says : " This Python mounted his tripod ; the 
Egyptian invocations were made at night in the cardinal's own 
saloon, which was illuminated by an immense number of wax tapers. 
The oracle, under the inspiration of its familiar demon, pronounced 
that the negotiation was worthy of the prince, that it would be 
crowned with success, that it would raise the goodness of the 
queen to its height, and bring to light that happy day which would 
unfold the rare talents of the cardinal for the benefit of France 
and of the human race." ^ 

The Countess de la Motte, who it will be remembered had for- 
merly met Cagliostro at Strasbourg, renewed her acquaintance 
Avith him in the salons of the Palais-Cardinal, where she was now 
a constant visitor. For a time it was an affair of diamond cut 
diamond between them. She flattered the arch impostor with the 
finest art, appeared to be his dupe, and broke out into loud excla- 
mations of surprise when he performed his tricks and practised his 
delusions in her presence. The crafty cheat was himself cheated. 
By degrees he became persuaded that she was really a confidant of 
the French queen, that she had credit at court, and would soon 
have power. Fully convinced of her influence, and perceiving, as 
he thought, that his patron the cardinal would by her assistance 



" Memoires de la Baronne d'Oberkirche," vol. i. pp. 129, 144. 
•* Memoires pour servir," etc., par l'Abb6 Georgel, vol. ii. p. 59. 



122 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

retrieve his political fortune, he encouraged that sanguine prelate, 
and worked, as we have seen, upon his imagination, with a view to 
dispel any lingering doubt he might chance to entertain. So in- 
fatuated did Cagliostro become under the influence of his own de- 
lusions on the one side, and the spell of this enchantress on the 
other, that the countess would appear to have controlled the crafty- 
necromancer even in the performance of his own spells.^ 

Cagliostro, after he was regularly settled in Paris, became a fre- 
quent visitor at the countess's house — he and madame, we are told, 
were like two fingers on one hand — w^here he was received with 
an amount of respect verging on to reverence. The De la Mottes 
and he were close neighbours, for he lived at the Hotel de Cha- 
vigny, in the Rue Saint-Claude, only a couple of streets off. " The 
house which he occupied, and which was afterwards the residence 
of Barras, was one of the most elegant of the quarter.^ In the 
salon, decorated with oriental luxury, and bathed in a kind of semi- 
daylight when it was not resplendent with the blaze of a hundred 
lights, the pursuits of the philosopher and conspirator might be 
divined by the side of the projects of the quack. There one saw 
the bust of Hippocrates, and, in a black frame, inscribed in letters 
of gold, a literal translation of Pope's Universal Prayer." ' Here 
Cagliostro lived in state, giving balls, assemblies, and audiences at 
which he insolently offered his hand to his fair disciples to kiss, 
while he treated his male visitors, and at times even the cardinal 
himself, with marked disdain.'* 

Young Beugnot, who met Cagliostro at one of Madame de la 
Motto's petits soiqjers, tells us that the countess previously warned 
him that she would be obliged to disarm the inquietude of Cag- 
liostro, who, for no reason whatever, invariably refused to sup if he 
thought that any one had been invited to meet him. Moreover, 
she begged Beugnot to ask him no questions, not to interrupt him 
when he was speaking, and to answer with readiness any inquiries 
he had addressed to him. " I subscribed," says Beugnot, " to 
these conditions, and would have accepted even harder ones to 

^ See post, p. 230. 

^ It is the corner house looking on to the Boulevard Beaumarchais, 

3 " Histoire de la Revolution Fran9aise," par Louis Blanc, vol. ii. p. 82. 

4 " R^ponse pour la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 27. 



A STUDY OF CAGLIOSTRO BY BEUGNOT. 123 

gratify my curiosity. At half-past ten the folding doors were 
thrown open, and the Count de Cagliostro was announced. Madame 
de la Motte precipitately quitted her arm-chair, rushed up to him 
and drew him into a corner of the salon, where I presume she 
begged him to pardon my presence. Cagliostro advanced towards 
me and bowed, without appearing at all embarrassed at perceiving 
a stranger. He was of medium height, rather stout, had a very 
short neck, and a round face ornamented with two large eyes 
sunken in his head, and a broad turn-up nose ; his complexion was 
of an olive tinge ; his coiffure was new in France, his hair being 
divided into several httle tresses, which, uniting at the back of the 
head, were tied up in the form known as the ^club.' He wore a 
French cut coat of iron grey embroidered with gold lace, and 
carried his sword stuck in the skirts, a scarlet vest trimmed with 
2)oint d'Espagne, red breeches, and a hat edged with a white feather. 
This last article of dress was still necessary to mountebanks, 
dentists, and other medical artistes who made speeches and sold 
their drugs out of doors. Cagliostro's costume was relieved by 
lace ruffles, several costly rings, and shoe-buckles of an old pattern 
but brilliant enough to pass for very fine diamonds. 

" There were at supper only the members of the family, among 
whom I include Father Loth, minime of the Place Royale, who 
reconciled, I know not how, his sacred functions with the place of 
second secretary to Madame de la Motte. He used to say mass 
for her on Sundays, and charged himself during the rest of the 
week with commissions at the Palais-Cardinal which the first secre- 
tary thought beneath his dignity. Neither must I count as a 
stranger the Chevalier de Montbreul, a veteran of the green rooms, 
and still a good conversationalist, who was prepared to affirm almost 
any mortal thing, and was found, as if by chance, wherever Cag- 
liostro appeared, ready to bear witness to the marvels he had per- 
formed, and to offer himself as a positive example miraculously 
cured of I know not how many diseases, of which the names alone 
were sufficiently startling. 

" There were then nine or ten of us at table ; Madame de la 
Motte had on one side of her Cagliostro and Montbreul, and I was 
on her other side, facing the former, whom I made a point of ex- 
amining by stealth, and still did not know what to think of him ; 



124 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the face, the style of dressing the hair, the whole of the man, im- 
pressed me in spite of myself I waited for him to open his mouth. 
He spoke I know not what jargon, half Italian, half French, plenti- 
fully interlarded with quotations in an unknown tongue, which 
passed with the unlearned for Arabic. He had all the talking to 
himself, and found time to go over at least twenty different sub- 
jects in the course of the evening, simply because he gave to them 
merely that extent of development which seemed good to him. 
Every moment he was inquiring if he was understood, whereupon 
everybody bowed in turn to assure him that he was. When start- 
ing a subject he seemed like one transported, raised his voice to 
the highest pitch and indulged in the most extravagant gesticula- 
tions. The subjects of his discourse were the heavens, the stars, 
the grand arcanum, Memphis, transcendental chemistry, giants, 
and the extinct monsters of the animal kingdom. He spoke, more- 
over, of a city in the interior of Africa ten times as large as Paris, 
and where he pretended he had correspondents." Beugnot further 
mentions, that in between his rhapsodies he would chatter the 
most frivolous nonsense to the Countess de la Motte, whom he de- 
signated his dove, his gazelle, and his white swan. After supper 
he addressed numerous questions to Beugnot, one following another 
with extraordinary rapidity. To all the count's catechising the 
young advocate invariably replied by a respectful avowal of his 
ignorance, and subsequently was surprised to learn from Madame 
de la Motte that Cagliostro had conceived a most favourable 
opinion, not merely of his deportment, but likewise of his know- 
ledge.^ 

^ " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 59, et seq. 

Cagliostro laid claim to being possessed of the power not only of trans- 
muting metals and curing all diseases, but of calling up spirits from the 
other world. His evocations were certainly not without an element of art. 
On one occasion the spirit the company desired to commune with was that 
of D'Alembert, and from notes furnished by an eye-witness, Lady Mantz, 
the actor Fleury gives the following account of the ceremony in his 
Memoir es : — 

'* The spectators or, as Cagliostro preferred to call them, guests sat in arm- 
chairs along the wall on the east side of the apartment. Before these chairs 
was drawn an iron chain, " lest some foolish person should be impelled by 
curiosity to rush upon destruction. "On the other side was placed the 



ONE OF CAGLIOSTRO'S EVOCATIONS. 125 

chair intended for the reception of the apparition. The Grand Koptha — 
the name assumed by Cagliostro on such occasions — chose the unusual hour 
of 3 a.m. for his evocations. Shortly before that time a voice was heard to 
order the removal from the scene of cats, dogs, horses, birds, and all 
reptiles, should any be near. Then came a command that none but free 
men should remain in the apartment ; the servants were accordingly dis- 
missed. A deep silence followed, and the lights were suddenly ex- 
tinguished. The same voice, now assuming a louder and more authoritative 
tone, requested the guests to shake the iron chain ; they obeyed, and an 
indescribable thrill ran through their frames. The clock at length struck 
three — slowly, and with a prolonged vibration of the bell. At each stroke 
a flash, as sudden and transitory as lightning, illumined the apartment, and 
the words 'Philosophy,' * Nature, ' and ' Truth ' successively appeared in 
legible characters above the empty arm chair. The last word was mora 
brilliant than the others. The lustres were suddenly relighted, how no one 
could tell. Stifled cries were heard as from a man whose mouth was 
gagged — a noise like that of a man struggling to break loose from persons 
detaining him ; — and Cagliostro appeared. 

"The Grand Koptha wore a costume to which it would be difficult to find 
anything analogous. Flowing drapery set off his figure to advantage, and 
the glow of enthusiasm in his face made him look really handsome. He 
delivered a short but comprehensive address, commenting on the words 
just seen over the chair. Then, turning successively to the four cardinal 
points, he uttered some cabalistic words, which returned as if from a distant 
echo. The lights having been extinguished, he commanded the guests again 
to shake the chain, and as they did so the strange feeling previously 
alluded to was renewed. The outline of the arm-chair now became gradu- 
ally perceptible in the darkness, as though the lines had been traced on a 
black ground with phosphorus. The next moment, and as if by the same 
process, a winding sheet could be seen, with two fleshless hands resting 
upon the arm of the chair. The winding sheet, slowly opening, discovered 
an emaciated form ; a short breathing was heard, and two brilliant piercing 
eyes were fixed upon the spectators." 

The illustrious philosopher, the author of the Preface to the ' ' Encyclopklie" 
had been called from the dead. He would answer questions put to him, 
but Cagliostro alone was privileged to hear him speak. " And what 
questions were put to him?" asked Fleury of Lady Mantz. "He was 
asked whether he had seen the other world." " And what did he say?" 
"■ Ah, Monsieur Fleury, it was a terrible reply, especially to one who, like 
me, looks forward to a better future. He said, ' There is no other world.' " 
"And did no one reply?" "Reply ! who could venture to reply to the 
ghost of M. d'Alembert, returned from — ah, whence ? " " That is precisely 
the thing. You should have said, ' M. d'Alembert, if there is no other 
world, where may you happen to come from now ? '" 



11^6 THE STORY OF THE DIAMONI> NECKLACE. 



XVIII. 

1785. Feb. 
the diamond necklace is delivered. 

The Cardinal de Rohan obtained possession of the Necklace early 
on the morning of the 1st of February, 1785, and had not long to 
wait ere he was honoured with the queen's commands to deliver 
it into her royal custody. We shall give two accounts of how this 
delivery was effected — namely, the story told by the countess, and 
the statement made by the cardinal in his memorial. 

The cardinal of course expected, from having rendered the queen 
a service for which she could not feel otherwise than grateful, that 
he would have been permitted to deliver the rich jewel to Marie- 
Antoinette in person, and when he received from Madame de la 
Motte the following note, purporting to be written by the queen, 
he imagined his expectations were on the point of being realized : — • 

" This evening (Feb. 1), at nine o'clock, you must be at the 
countess's house (at Versailles) with the ca^sket and in the usual 
costume. Do not leave until you hear from me." 

The countess lodged, as the reader will remember, at " La Belle 
Image," in the Place Dauphine, and thither, on this sharp winter's 
night — it was a hard frost, and the ground was almost like glass 
— the cardinal proceeded, wrapped up in a long great-coat, ^nd 
wearing a slouched hat that concealed his features. One can 
imagine the countess's nervous state on this eventful evening — can 
^ee her posted at the window on the watch, peering through the 
frost on the panes into the dark and almost silent Place, eager for 
a glimpse of the grand almoner with the coveted treasure. At last 
two figures are seen crossing the broad square from the Rue de la 
Pompe, at the end of which is the H6tel de Rohan — one is the 
cardinal, the other a man-servant he has brought with him, who 
carries the casket, and whom he dismisses a few doors off " La 
Belle Image." 



THE CARDINAL ARRIVES WITH THE CASKET. 127 

" At half-past eight o'clock," says Madame de la Motte, " the 
cardinal called upon me in his disguise, carrying under his arm the 
casket containing the Necklace, which he set down on a chest of 
drawers. At half-past nine Lesclos,i that faithful messenger of 
her majesty, whom she so often employed in delicate missions — 
Lesclos, a man perfectly well known to the cardinal, and the neces- 
sary confidant of all the little irregularities mentioned in the 
correspondence between him and the queen — called upon me with 
a letter from her majesty which ran thus : — 

" ' The minister (the king) is at present with me, and I cannot 
tell how long he will stay. You know the person I send. Deliver 
the casket to him, and stay where you are. I do not despair of 
seeing thee to-day." 

" The cardinal," continues the countess, " having read this note, 
delivered to the faithful Lesclos, with his own hands, the casket 
containing the Necklace which he had himself deposited on the 
chest of drawers. Lesclos went out." ^ 

Such is Madame de la Motto's statement. Let us compare it 
with the cardinal's, w^hich we extract from one of the memorials 
produced in his defence at the trial : — 

" On his (the cardinal's) arrival at Versailles he called upon 
Madame de la Motte, w^ho was living in the Place Dauphine j he 
took with him Schreibert, his valet de chamhre, who had charge of 
the casket. The cardinal, when they had reached the house, took 
it from him and went up-stairs by himself. He found Madame de 
la Motte alone, and presented to her the rich burden he was 
carrying. 

" Some time after a man, who announced himself as a messenger 
from the queen, entered the apartment. The cardinal withdrew 
cautiously into an alcove which was half open. The man delivered 
a note. Madame de la Motte sent him for a moment outside the 
room, then came towards the cardinal and read to him the letter con- 
taining the order for delivering up the casket to the bearer. Tho 
man was then called in again, the casket was given into his hands, 



* According to the official documents relating to the " Affaire du Collier '* 
the correct name of this individual was Desclaux. 
", " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 99. 



128 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and he took his departure. . . . Who was that man "? To the 
cardinal he seemed to be the same that he had descried in the park 
of Versailles on the night of the 11th of August, 1784, close to 
Mademoiselle d'Oliva." ^ 

We will undertake to answer the cardinal's interrogatory. The 
messenger was an accomplice of the countess's : none other than 
the forger Retaux de Villette, made up for the occasion "with large 
black eyebrows, and pale face," and the letter of which he was the 
bearer was one of his own numerous forgeries. At any rate the 
countess's femme de chamhre, Rosalie Briffaut, deposed to having 
opened the door to him at the precise hour on that particular night, 
when he immediately entered the countess's apartment. 

Success is attained at last ! The great fraud is consummated I 
The woman who when a child we have seen running along the 
streets with naked feet, the tatters of poverty her only covering, 
and begging of lords and ladies to " bestow a few sous on a 
descendant of Henry II. of Valois, King of France," has at length 
obtained possession of the famed Diamond Necklace, valued at 
1,600,000, livres, or £64,000, sterling ! The jewellers, delighted at 
having got the troublesome piece of bijouterie off their hands, invite 
the countess to a grand dinner, and madame being pleased to 
accept the invitation, the affair came off on the 12th of February, 
when doubtless both the countess and her absent friend the 
cardinal were toasted in bumpers of the choicest Burgundy, and 
more than one fine speech was made which, had it been accurately 
reported, would have read rather curiously a few months after- 
wards. 

It had been arranged, it seems, between the jewellers and 
Laporte, Achette, some baron — name unknown, but said to be a 
relative of the cardinal's — and a money-lending goldsmith named 
Grenier,^ the same who had purchased the De la Motte pension, 

^ " Memoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan," p. 39. All the persons con- 
cerned in the famous nocturnal meeting differed with regard to the date at 
which it took place. Madame de la Motte, as we have aheady stated, fixes 
it on the 28th of July. 

^ Miswritten "Regnier" in the official records. Regnier was another 
goldsmith with whom the De la Mottes had considerable dealings, bough'i 
their service of plate of, etc. 



madame's coyness respecting a commission. 129 

and who, we expect, had got mixed up in the Necklace affair 
through his connection with the countess, that a commission of 
200,000 livres was to be paid to the negotiators, of which amount 
madame says it was proposed she should receive one-half in articles 
of jewellery, such as diamond rings and earrings, a couple of solitaires, 
a locket set with diamonds, and a watch and chain for herself, 
with a couple of diamond rings and a watch and chain set with 
diamonds for her husband. When Laporte sent her a written 
memorandum of these conditions, and begged her acceptance of 
them, she declined, and desired him to say no more on the subject, 
as she had done so little towards eflecting the sale of the Necklace, 
and as, moreover, it was not her habit to receive presents for 
services rendered ! ^ 

When the count, who had not yet been let into the secret of his 
wife's intention with regard to the Necklace, came to hear of this 
refusal, he blamed her very much, and it was arranged with Grenier 
that he should inform the other negotiators of the countess's will- 
ingness to accept the proposed presents. It does not appear, 
however, that she ever received them. The commission was 
probably dependent on the payment of the purchase-money for the 
Necklace, and as this was never paid, the arrangement with regard 
to the commission most likely fell to the ground. 

Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general of the navy, and 
principal creditor of the crown jewellers, is equally delighted with 
the latter at the Necklace being at last sold. He has now before 
him the pleasant prospect of receiving twenty-four livres in the 
louis on his large debt, and from a feeling of gratitude presses, 
through Bohmer and Bassenge, the offer of his services upon the 
cardinal, to whom, he said, he should be proud to be of use. The 
cardinal, who, with all his large resources, is continually in want 
of money, knew, we suppose, what this meant, for he forthwith 
borrowed 50,000 livres from the treasurer-general of the navy on 
his simple note of hand.- 

This celebrated financier's real name was Baudard ; but when he 
had grown rich he made an addition to it, and called himself Saint- 



* •* Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." 
a »« x>remier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 
I 



130 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECELACE. 

James, after the village from whence he came. This name he in 
his turn bestowed on a celebrated chateau and park still existing 
at the end of the Avenue de Neuilly, the same in which the Duke 
of Wellington and his staff took up their quarters when the Allies 
entered Paris after the battle of Waterloo. It had formerly been 
the residence of the famous Cardinal de Retz, afterwards of Le 
Normand (uncle of Madame de Maintenon, and the richest fermier- 
general of his time), by whom the chateau was rebuilt, and sub- 
sequently of our treasurer-general of the navy, who dissipated his 
immense fortune upon it in fancies of the wildest kind. He first 
enlarged the chateau, then redecorated and furnished it in the 
most magnificent style ; next extended and relaid out the park, 
planted miniature woods, constructed artificial grottos and water- 
falls, erected Chinese temples and Turkish kiosques, and formed a 
superb winter-garden, in which he accumulated all the rare flora 
of Asia and America. The feature of the park, however, was its 
grand rock, the quarrying and transit of which is said to have 
cost Saint-James the incredible sum of 1,600,000 livres, or 
£64,000^ — exactly the price of the Diamond Necklace — and 
which is known even at the present day by the name of " Saint- 
James's Folly." What with his reckless expenditure upon this 
chateau and park, his expensive mistresses, his jobbing in the 
funds, his allowing himself to be drawn Jnto all manner of wild 
undertakings, the promoters of which, knowing alike his stupidity 
and his greed, invariably had recourse to him, and his subsequent 
losses by Bohmer and Bassenge and others, it is not to be 
wondered at that Baudard de Saint-James came to grief at last — 
failed, in fact, for a million sterling, got sent to the Bastille, and 
only left it to die of poverty and grief a short time afterwards. 

* " Histoire du Bois de Boulogne," par J. Lobet, p. 141. 



SAID TO BE BOUGHT FOR A FAVOURITE SULTANA. 131 



XIX. 

1785. Feb.— Aug. 

the diamond necklace vanishes! 

The gigantic swindle it must be confessed had been effected in a 
masterly manner. Weeks, and even months, passed by, and no 
one seemed to entertain the slightest suspicion that any jfrand had 
been perpetrated. But this was only the calm that precedes the 
storm. The crown jewellers, Bohmer and Bassenge, made it no 
secret that they had succeeded in disposing of their Necklace. 
They, however, gave out that it had been purchased by the Sultan 
of Turkey for a favourite sultana. Bohmer afterwards stated that 
they did this at the request of the cardinal, who had received the 
queen's commands to that effect. Of course Madame de la Motte 
was the real person who caused this report to be spread to allay 
impertinent curiosity. The cardinal, flattering himself that he had 
placed his sovereign under an obligation, was expecting both 
favour and power, and was confiding these hopes rather incautiously 
to his friends. The De la Mottes were openly living in almost 
Oriental luxury. Nobody would have supposed that any great 
wrong had been done. 

On the 3rd of February, two days after the Necklace had been 
delivered to the cardinal, he met Bohmer and Bassenge at 
Versailles. " Well," said he to them, " have you made your very 
humble acknowledgments to her majesty for having purchased 
your Necklace ? " The jewellers, careless upon this point now the 
Necklace was fairly off their hands, had not done so ; the cardinal 
upbraided them with their neglect, a fact admitted at the trial.^ 

Months glide by without the slightest suspicion arising, although 
the grand almoner is somewhat puzzled at the queen never wear- 
ing the Necklace in public. Every time he meets the jewellers 

* •' Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 



132 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

he repeats his inquiry whether they have humbly thanked the 
queen, and renews his very earnest recommendation for them to do 
so. At length, in the last week of June, after the countess has 
more than once hinted to him that the queen thinks the Necklace 
dear, the cardinal receives a letter written in her majesty's name 
by the forger Villette, complaining of the excessive price of the 
jewel, and demanding a reduction of 200,000 livres, in which case 
700,000 instead of 400,000 livres would be paid on the 1st of 
August, " otherwise," the letter went on to say, "the article will 
be returned."^ The crown jewellers murmur, as well they might, 
at this unexpected demand, but rather than be again burthened 
with the Necklace, after consulting with Saint-James, they give an 
unwilling consent to the new arrangement. When all is finally 
settled, by the advice of the cardinal they address to the queen the 
following letter, the very words of which are dictated by the grand 
almoner himself : 

. " Madame, 

" We are extremely happy to think that the last 
arrangements which have been proposed to us, and to which we 
have submitted with respectful zeal, will be received as a new in- 
stance of our submission and devotedness to your majesty's com- 
mands, and we feel truly rejoiced to think that the most beautiful 
set of diamonds in the world will be worn by the best and greatest 
of queens. 

" BOHMER AND BaSSENGE. 
"July 12, 1785."^ 

When the above letter was written, some slight feelings of un- 
easiness respecting the Necklace had taken possession of the minds 
of the two partners ; for Marie-Antoinette had appeared in public 
on several occasions when such an ornament might very properly 
have been worn, but without displaying it. Bohmer had sought 
interviews with the queen, who had carefully avoided him, fearing 
to be again pestered with his importunities, and, since his threat of 
committing suicide, regarding him as partially deranged. 

' "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," voL i. p. 350, and 
" Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 
* Deposition de Bassenge. 



THE QUEEN IS PUZZLED WITH THE JEWELLERS* LETTER. 133 

The cardinal, as we have already remarked, was perplexed by 
the circumstance that the queen did not wear the Necklace, and 
still more so by the freezing aversion she continued to manifest 
whenever they met in public. The fictitious letters too had be- 
come more rare, as well as much briefer than heretofore, and very 
cold. The apprehension mutually shared by the cardinal and the 
crown jewellers may be traced in the letter just quoted, in which 
" the most beautiful set of diamonds in the world " is pointedly 
alluded to, and something like a hint given that they ought to be 
"worn by the best and greatest of queens." 

This letter was delivered by Bohmer to Marie-Antoinette with a 
diamond epaulette and buckles which the king had ordered of the 
crown jewellers as presents to the Duke d'Angouleme on the day 
of his christening. The queen, who had just returned from mass, 
went at once into her library, where Madame Campan was present. 
" She held the note in her hand ; she read it to me," says Madame 
Campan, " observing that as I had in the morning guessed the 
enigmas in the Mercure^ I could no doubt discover the meaning of 
this, which that madman Bohmer had just handed to her. These 
were her very words. The note contained a request not to forget 
him,^ and expressions of his happiness at seeing her in possession 
of the most beautiful diamonds that could be found in Europe. 
As she finished reading the note she twisted it up and burnt it at 
a taper which was standing lighted in her library for sealing letters, 
and merely recommended me, when I should see Bdhmer, to re- 
quest an explanation of it. *Has he assorted some new orna- 
ments ? '^ added the queen. * I should be very vexed if he has 
done so, for I don't intend to make use of his services any longer.'"^ 

* Madame Campan's memory appears to have been at fault here. 

» The reader will have observed that specific mention is not made in the 
jewellers' letter of the Necklace itself, which Marie-Antoinette, in common 
with everybody else, had no doubt heard had been sold to the Sultan. 
Besides, only some two months previously the queen had purchased of 
Bohmer a magnificent pair of diamond earrings at the cost, it was reported, 
of 800,000 livres, and why might not this letter in the queen's mind have 
borne reference to these rather than to the Diamond Necklace? See 
" Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," etc., 
vol. i. p. 562. 

3 *« Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 227. 



134 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

In the middle of the month of July, but a very short time before 
the first instalment fell due, the countess, feeling the necessity for 
gaining time, called upon the Cardinal de Rohan, and told him that 
the queen would be constrained to devote the 700,000 livi'es, which 
she had put aside for the payment of the moiety of the purchase- 
money due on the 1st of August, to other purposes. She begged 
that the cardinal would see the jewellers and obtain a postpone- 
ment, which the queen thought could not be at all difficult,^ until 
the 1st of October. The cardinal received this message with 
evident consternation, whereupon Madame de la Motte, to reassure 
him, told him that she had seen in the queen's hands notes to the 
amount of 700,000 livres, which her majesty had designed for the 
payment of the instalment in question, and a day or two afterwards 
she would appear to have brought him a letter from the queen on 
the subject.^ There is no help for it — for needs must when such a 
charioteer as the countess drives — so the cardinal does as he is bid, 
somewhat out of temper, it is true, by this time with her majesty's 
unbusiness-like ways, which bid fair, he tells the jewellers, "to turn 
his head.'* Bohmer and Bassenge show such evident signs of dis- 
satisfaction at this new variation of the contract, that to quiet them 
the prince feels constrained to tell them a fib, namely, that he had 
himself seen in the queen's hands the 700,000 livres in question. 
This statement he repeats to Baudard de Saint-James, whose 
interest in the matter we know, and who makes it his business to 
be kept informed of any hitches that arise in this troublesome 
Necklace affair. Prompted, no doubt, by Madame de la Motte, the 
cardinal seems to have hinted to the financier that it would be a 
good opportunity for him to secure the queen's favour, and with it 
the cordon rouge, of which Saint-James was particularly ambitious, 
by lending her majesty this 700,000 livres, for the payment of the 
first instalment. Saint-James was not unwilling ; still he was over 
cautious, and said that on hearing one word from the queen the 
amount should be forthcoming.^ Georgel says that the reason the 
affair fell through was because the forger Villette was, as will after 



* ** M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abbi Georgel, vol. ii. p. 92. 

"^ See Appendix to the present work, p. 394. 

3 " Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 



THIRTY THOUSAND LIVRES FOR INTEREST. 135 

wards appear, away at that particular juncture at Bar-sur-Aube, 
and the written word consequently was not forthcoming until it was 
too late,^ owing to which lucky accident Saint-James saved his 
700,000 livres, which the countess would certainly have spirited 
away in her usual fashion if the chance had only been afforded her. 

After consulting with their most pressing creditors, Bohmer and 
Bassenge gave a reluctant consent to the postponement asked for ; 
but while the affair is still under consideration, the countess, get- 
ting alarmed, brings the cardinal 30,000 livres, which she tells him 
the queen has sent as interest on the retarded payment. Thirty 
thousand francs as interest on seven hundred thousand francs for 
two months, or at the rate of nearly twenty-six per cent, and the 
client, too, a queen ! Madame de la Motte had evidently foreseen 
the famous axiom of Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington, though 
in an inverted form. With her, bad security implied high interest. 

This 30,000 livres, we are told by the Abbe Georgel, only con- 
firmed the most credulous of mortals in the conviction he enters- 
tained of the entire truth of all that Madame de la Motte had 
asserted. He at once hastened to the jewellers, who accepted the 
amount, not as interest, but on account of the principal. A few 
days afterwards, namely, on the 3rd of August, Bohmer, who 
occasionally visited the father-in-law of Madame Campan, went 
down to his country-house at Crespy — whether or not by invitation 
from Madame Campan does not appear— when Madame Campan 
repeated to him all that the queen had desired her to say. Bohmer, 
she tells us, seemed petrified, and asked how it was that the queen 
had been unable to understand the meaning of the letter he had 
presented to her. 

" I read it myself," replied Madame Campan, " and I could make 
nothing of it." 

Bohmer observed that he was not surprised at that, as there was 
a certain mystery in the affair respecting which she was ignorant, 
but of which he would inform her fully if she would accord him a 
private interview. 

" When I had got rid of the persons who required my presence 
in the drawing-room," says Madame Campan, " I went with Bohmer 

* "M^moir^g ^6iir servir," etc., par PAlabd Greorgel, vol. ii. p. 80. 



136 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

down one of the garden- walks." Here the promised explanation 
was given, on hearing which Madame Campan was " so struck with 
horror," " so absorbed in grief," that a storm of thunder and rain 
came on while they were talking together without exciting her at- 
tention. During this conversation Bohmer stated that the queen, 
having changed her mind respecting his " grand Necklace," and 
having determined to purchase it, had employed the Cardinal de 
Rohan as her agent in the transaction. 

Madame Campan at once told the crown jeweller that he was de- 
ceived, for the queen had never spoken to the cardinal since his 
return from Vienna, and there was not an individual at court less 
favourably looked upon than the grand almoner. 

" You are deceived yourself, madame," replied Bohmer ; " the 
queen must see him in private, for it was to his eminence that she 
gave 30,000 livres which were paid me on account; she took them 
in his presence^ out of the little secretaire of Sevres porcelain next 
the fireplace in her boudoir. This the cardinal told me himself." 

Bohmer further stated that he had in his possession all the notes 
signed by the queen, and that he had even been obliged to show 
these to various bankers in order to induce them to grant him an 
extension of time for his payments. 

Madame Campan, thunderstruck at what she heard, assured 
poor Bohmer that he was the victim of a detestable plot ; where- 
upon the jeweller confessed that he began to feel alarmed, as the 
cardinal had declared to him that the queen would be certain to 
wear the Necklace on Whit Sunday, and he, Bohmer, was greatly 
astonished when he saw that she did not have it on. On asking 
Madame Campan what she thought he ought to do, she advised 
him to go at once to the Baron de Breteuil, and tell him candidly 
all that had passed, and be ruled entirely by him. Instead of doing 
this Bohmer hurried off to the cardinal. What transpired at this 
interview is not known, but the following memorandum, in the 
grand almoner's hand-writing, was said to have been found in a 
drawer at the Hotel de Strasbourg at the time a search was made 
for the cardinal's papers : 

^ This, if true, was a piece of vain boasting on the cardinal's part, for it is 
quite certain that he received the thirty thousand livres from Madame de 
la Motte, who professed to have brought them from the queen. 



MADAME CAMPAN TELLS THE QUEEX EVERYTHING. 137 

" On this day, 3rd August, Bohmer went to Madame Campan's 
country house, and she told him that the queen had never had the 
Necklace, and that he had been cheated." 

Bohmer must have spoken to the cardinal beforehand of his con- 
templated visit to Crespy, for the cardinal admitted that, having 
regard to the queen's injunction to keep her name a perfect secret 
in the affair of the Necklace, he had urged Bohmer not to speak to 
Madame Campan on the subject, and in the event of any questions 
being asked him to say the Necklace had been sent abroad.^ 

The half-crazy jeweller next hastened to the Little Trianon, but 
failed in obtaining an interview with Marie- Antoinette. A day or 
two afterwards, the queen having sent for Madame Campan to 
rehearse with her the part of Hosina, which she was to play in 
Beaumarchais' comedy, " The Barber of Seville," at her private 
theatre at the Little Trianon, took an opportunity of asking her 
why she had sent Bohmer to her (who had been to speak to her, 
saying that he came at Madame Campan's request), when she did 
not wish to see him. 

" The expression," remarks Madame Campan, "which this man's 
name produced on my features must have been very marked, for 
the queen observed it, and commenced questioning me. I begged 
her to see him ; I assured her that it was necessary to her tran- 
quillity ; that an intrigue was being carried on of which she was 
ignorant ; that it was a grave one, since agreements signed by her 
had been shown to people who had lent money to Bohmer. Her 
surprise and annoyance were gi-eat. She made me relate several 
times the whole of my conversation with him, and complained 
bitterly of the vexation she felt at the circulation of forged notes 
signed with her name ; but she could not conceive how the cardinal 
could be involved in the affair. This was a labyrinth to her, and 
her mind was lost in it. She ordered me to remain at Trianon, 
while she sent off a courier to Paris, under a pretext which I have 
now forgotten. He returned the next morning, the very day of 
the representation of the comedy, which was the last amusement 
the queen allowed herself in this retreat."^ 

* " Deuxi^me Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.'* 
= •' Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 9, 
12, 279. 



138 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XX. 

1785. Feb. — June. 

the diamonds are dispersed. — count de la motte goes to 
england on business. 

The De la Mottes had spirited away the Necklace it is true, but 
how were they to turn it into hard cash 1 Every working jeweller 
in France knew this famed piece of bijouterie by repute almost as 
well as if he had had a hand in its manufacture. The only plan, 
therefore, was for them, somehow or other, to remove the diamonds 
from their settings, and to dispose of them piecemeal. The first 
the De la Mottes contrived to do after a fashion by means of a 
knife or some such instrument ; the last they found a difficult and 
even dangerous undertaking. 

On the 15th of February^ the countess's first secretary and the 
forger of the queen's signature to the contract with the jewellers, 
Retaux de Villette, who was of course as deep in the plot as the 
De la Mottes themselves, was intrusted with about forty of the 
smaller stones to sell to two Jew diamond-merchants named Adam 
and Yidal for four hundred francs apiece. Vidal, believing the 
diamonds to be stolen, gave information to the police, and the con- 
sequence was that Villette was arrested and subjected to an 
examination, in the course of which he was constrained to give up 

' It is important that this date should be noted ; for the circumstances 
which transpired on it, and which are chronicled in the police records, 
effectually dispose of the theory advanced by certain writers — such as M. 
Alexandre Dumas, in his "Louis XVI." (vol. iii. p. 194, et seq.) — who 
maintain that Marie- Antoinette really purchased the Necklace through the 
instrumentality of the Cardinal de Rohan, and, after keeping it something 
like three months, returned it to the jewellers by the hands of Madame de 
la Motte, on finding that she was unable to raise the money to meet the first 
instalment. While asserting that Madame de la Motte was really the 
queen's confidant, the writers referred to are forced to admit that she be- 
trayed her trust, and converted the Necklace to her own use. 



NEGOCIATIONS OPENED WITH BETTE d'eTIENVILLE. 139 

the name of the Countess de la Motte as that of the person who 
had intrusted him with the diamonds to sell. Madame being well 
known of old to M. Lenoir, lieutenant-general of police, to whom it 
will be remembered one of her begging letters was referred,^ and 
her reputation being of the shadiest in her particular " quartier" 
M. Lenoir gave directions to the inspector who had arrested 
Villette to make diligent search at the " Bureau de Surete" for in- 
formation respecting any recent robbery of diamonds. Nothing 
whatever being discovered to implicate Villette in the least degree, 
he was discharged, and the diamonds were restored to him.'' 

This was a narrow escape for Villette, who naturally enough de* 
clined putting his liberty in jeopardy a second time. The conse- 
quence was that, burdened though the De la Mottes now were with 
diamonds, they were unable to turn them to profitable account. 
If attempting to dispose of a few of the smallest stones excited all 
this suspicion, whatever would come to pass, thought they, if any 
quantity of the larger brilliants were publicly offered in the 
market 1 The thieves are for the moment at their wits' ends, and 
do not appear to have been particularly fertile in their expedients, 
for what next suggests itself to them is to get hold of a young 
fellow of dubious character calling himself Jean-Charles- Vincent do 
Bette d'Etienville, whom Retaux de Villette has met with at some 
cafe — singularly enough the Caf4 Valois — and under the assumed 
characters of the Dame de Courville, personated by Madame de la 
Motte, the Sieur Augeard, her steward, personated by Villette, and 
the Councillor Marsilly, personated by the Count de la Motte, to 
make him their pretended confidant in a cock-and-bull story about 
the lady desiring with a view of legitimatizing a child she has had 
by some very great nobleman,to get married to some gentleman of 
title, to whom a bonus of one hundred thousand livres would be 
given on the day of the wedding. They represented, however, 
that before this arrangement could be carried into effect, it would 
be necessary to dispose of the lady's diamonds, which were valued 
at four hundred and thirty-two thousand livres ; and it was pro- 

* See ante, p. 44. 

^ Deposition de Vidal, and Deposition de Brugni^res, inspecteur de police. 
Brugniferes was the police agent who arrested Mirabeau and Madame de 
Monnier in Holland, after their elopement from France. 



140 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

posed to Bette that he should take them to Holland, and sell 
them to the diamond merchants of Amsterdam — madame of course 
either accompanying him, or dogging his footsteps to ensure his 
not giving them the slip. Bette, although he found out a gentle- 
man of title ready and willing to save a lady's reputation at the 
price of one hundred thousand livres, cash down, seems to have 
drawn back at this latter suggestion, which foreboded danger he 
fancied ; and all madame's powers of fascination and persuasion 
proving of no avail, this abortive scheme had to be abandoned.^ 

All this was of course very disheartening. To have plotted and 
schemed, and watched and waited, and after doubts and misgivings, 
and positive fears and dangers, to have at length achieved success, 
and then for success to prove barren, was something awful. For 
the moment it seemed as though there was nothing to be done ex- 
cept to barter away as many diamonds as they could, and to have 
others reset to wear as personal ornaments. It was certainly no 
use hiding so much brilliancy under a bushel. At the commence- 
ment of March we find the Count de la Motte strolling into the shop 
of Furet, clockmaker to the king, Rue Saint-Honore, with whom 
he had had previous dealings, and buying from him three clocks, 
price three thousand seven hundred and twenty livres, and giving 
him a couple of diamonds, which the jeweller values at two 
thousand seven hundred livres, on account.. A day or two after- 
wards madame herself calls with a number of diamonds, which she 
wishes to have mounted encircling a watch ; but Furet explains 
to her that the stones are too large for this purpose, and suggests 
mounting them as bracelets.^ She also exchanges a diamond with 
a Jew for a couple of china pomade pots, and pays a visit to the 
goldsmith Regnier — of whom she had bought a pair of diamond 
bracelets and the handsome service of silver plate with which it 
will be remembered she astonished her Bar-sur-Aube connections 
in the preceding year, paying for the same with the cardinal's 
money — and commissions him to set a couple of large diamonds, 
which she brings with her, in rings, one for herself and the other 
for her husband.* 

' "M^moire pour Bette d'Etienville," and Deposition de Bette d'Etien- 
villo. See also Appendix, p. 409. 

» Deposition de Furet. 3 Deposition de Regnier. 



THE COUNT GOES TO ENGLAND WITH THE LARGER DIAMONDS. 141 

Transactions of this character, however, did not put them in 
possession of the one thing needful — namely, ready cash. 
Diamonds were with them as plentiful as blackbei-ries, but 
diamonds are not meat and drink, and are at best but an in- 
diflferent circulating medium, and the De la Mottes were getting 
painfully hard up. The countess, however, proved herself as 
usual equal to the occasion. 

Unknown to her husband, she sells a parcel of twenty-two 
diamonds to one Paris, a jeweller — to whom she had been intro- 
duced by M. Filleul, a lawyer of Bar-sur-Aube, and an occasional 
visitor at the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles — for the sum of fifteen 
thousand livres, and subsequently disposes of sixteen more 
diamonds to the same person for the sum of sixteen thousand 
livres.^ This furnished her with sufficient funds to pack the 
Count de la Motte over to England with a letter of credit for a 
couple of thousand crowns,^ and the bulk of the larger diamonds 
belonging to the Necklace. These diamonds, which the countess 
had first declared were sold at the request and on behalf of the 
Cardinal de Rohan, she afterwards pretended she had received as 
a gift from the queen, and it will be noticed at the outset of the 
following narrative that the count takes up this cue, although he 
stated to the English jewellers that the gems were a family heir- 
loom. This narrative of the count's is not wanting in circum- 
stantiality, still, like everything else emanating from the De la 
Motte mint, it has the customary false stamp upon it, more par- 
ticularly in that portion relating to the amount said to have been 
received for the diamonds which the count succeeded in disposing 
of, as we shall by-and-by show. It should be remembered that 
this statement was not made public until long after the fact of the 
sale and purchase of the diamonds in question had been proved 
beyond a shadow of doubt by the English jewellers concerned in 
the transaction. 

"1 arrived in London," says the count, "on the 17th of April, 
1785, with the Chevalier O'Neil, who was perfectly acquainted 
with the object of my journey. As he knew the countess was 

* *' Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." Also post, p. 148. 
'^ Deposition de Perregaux, banquier. 



142 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

admitted to the queen, I made no mystery to him of the 'present 
she had received from her majesty, nor of my motive for parting 
with the diamonds in London. I had a letter of credit on Messrs. 
Morland and Co., to whom I went the day after my arrival. On 
making inquiry for the most noted jewellers, I was directed to 
Jefferys and to Gray ; I first saw JefFerys, who lived in Piccadilly, 
told him I had some diamonds to dispose of, and left him my 
address. The next morning he came to my lodgings, where I 
showed him the eighteen oval stones that belonged to the Necklace, 
and acquainted him with the price which the cardinal had fixed. 
He requested me to let him take them home in order to examine 
them, and offered me his acknowledgment, which I accepted. 
He promised to bring me an answer in four days ; the next day I 
set out with the Chevalier O'Neil for Newmarket. During five 
days that we remained there, I gained by betting nine hundred 
and sixty guineas, sixty of which I expended in travelling ex- 
penses, the purchase of clothes, and various other articles. 

" On my return to London, I went to JefFerys, who told me that 
a gentleman had offered four thousand pounds sterling ; that he 
could not pay ready money, but would give notes at six and 
twelve months' date, and would find ample security. I told him 
I would consider of it, took back my diamonds, and returned him 
his acknowledgment. The same day I went to Gray's in New Bond 
Street,^ left with him the largest oval stone, and directed him to 
come to me the next day, when I would let him see a greater 
quantity ; the same day I purchased of him a self-winding watch. 
The next day he came with a Jew named Eliason. I intrusted 
him with the same stones I had left in Jefferys' hands ; he told me 
he had already examined them, and that a broker whom JefFerys 
employed had brought them to him. I then let him know the 
offer that Jefferys had made me, and the terms of payment, adding, 
that not knowing Jefferys, nor the person he had recommended to 
me, I did not choose to part with so considerable a property upon 
credit. That besides, I proposed staying but a few days in 

^ Gray's shop was No. 13, and the largest in New Bond Street. The 
house, which is within two doors of Long's hotel, must have been quite a 
new building at the time the Count de la Motte had dealings with the crack 
London jeweller of that day. 



THE COUNT DECLINES TO SELL UNDER PRICE. 143 

London, whither I might probably never again return, and that I 
did not think proper to leave anything behind me that might 
create any anxiety. 

" He answered that I was perfectly in the right, and that if we 
agreed on the price he would pay me ready money. I told him 
my price : he took away the diamonds, and promised to bring an 
answer the following day ; which he did, but still accompanied by 
Gray. He made me an offer of three thousand guineas, which I 
would not accept. After pointing out stones that had flaws and 
other defects they left me, with an assurance that the offer they 
made me for ready money was very adequate ; and that I should 
not meet with a more eligible one. I let them go away, telling 
them I would keep my diamonds rather than part with them at 
that price. 

"Next morning they returned, and asked to inspect the 
diamonds a second time : I permitted them. O'Neil was present, 
as well as my valet de chamhre. Eliason then drew out of his 
pocket a pearl necklace, consisting of two very beautiful rows, a 
snuff-box set with brilliants and pearls, with a medallion on the 
lid, and several parcels of pearl seed. He valued these several 
articles at about five hundred and sixty pounds sterling. I said 
that if he would give me four thousand pounds, together with 
those articles, the bargain was struck. He exclaimed loudly, and 
then made a motion to go, offering three thousand pounds and the 
articles I had selected — a proposal which I rejected. 

" In the interim Jefferys made a second application ; I told him 
my resolution was to sell them for ready money only. I then 
delivered to him thirteen stones of the first quality I possessed ; 
the two finest, which belonged to the Necklace, not having been 
given to the countess ; and no doubt but the queen made a present 
of them to Mademoiselle Dorvat, or some other woman in her in- 
timacy, for there were several which were similar. I had selected 
two, one intended to be set in a ring for the countess, the other for 
myself. Regnier, my jeweller at Paris, set them before my de- 
parture for London.^ Both myself and the countess commonly 
wore them. The cardinal has seen them both. 

* See ante, p. 140. 



144 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" I called the next day at Gray's to purchase several articles in 
steel ; there I found Eliason, who told me I was over-tenacious, 
that his offer was a very fair one. He showed me some very fine 
pearls for a pair of bracelets, and a ring forming a neck-button ; 
I went into a separate apartment, where we entered into a bargain. 
After two hours' difficulty on both sides we at length agreed 
upon a price for the eighteen oval stones, viz., three thousand 
pounds sterling ready money ; the pearl necklace of two rows, 
valued at two hundred pounds, the snuff-box one hundred and 
forty, the pearl-seed one hundred and twenty, and a diamond star 
which I took in Gray's shop, valued at three hundred. 

" This was the first bargain. When I had received the money 
and jewels, he told me that Jefferys' broker had brought him other 
diamonds which were no doubt my property ; that if I chose to 
sell them, I had better do business with him than with another : 
that I should gain by it the commission and some ready money. 
I went the same day and took out of Jefferys' hands the thirteen 
stones I had left in his possession. He had come to the knowledge 
of my dealing with Gray, and being vexed at having missed the 
opportunity of making the purchase himself, he upon that account 
pretended, as will be seen hereafter, that he had acted respecting 
the diamonds with more propriety than Gray, for that he, Jefferys, 
surmising the diamonds to have been stolen, had given notice at a 
police office (which in fact was a falsehood^), and had refused to 
buy them. He afterwards the more readily made a declaration to 
this purpose before a certain notary named Dubourg, at the request 
of M. de Carbonnieres, agent for the cardinal, as he said he be- 
lieved me to be in Turkey, and depended upon never seeing me 
again in England. His behaviour to me when I returned to 
London will show how delicate this Jefferys was in his conduct ; 
since he came to me after judgment was passed to ask me whether 
I had not any diamonds to dispose of, telling me he would be the 
purchaser, and allow me a greater advantage than Gray would. It 
will soon be seen what answer I made him, and the method I took 
in order to make apparent what the justificatory writings produced 
by the cardinal consisted in. 

^ Which in fact was not a falsehood. See Jefferys' deposition, given in 
the " Pieces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan." 



THE CAPUCHIN MACDERMOTT VOLUNTEERS HIS SERVICES. 145 

" The thirteen stones taken from JefFerjs I carried to Gray, tell- 
ing him I would come the next day to his shop myself, and that 
he might appoint Eliason to be there at the same hour. The 
departure of the Chevalier O'Neil prevented my keeping the appoint- 
ment. He had i-eceived a letter from his brother and another from 
his colonel, requiring his return with all possible speed to join his 
regiment by the 15th of May. He had not been able to obtain a 
longer leave of absence as he hoped ; the troops the emperor was 
then marching towards Holland were the occasion of the orders he 
had received : he was therefore forced to leave me in London. He 
took charge of several purchases I had made, and of the parcel of 
pearls I had got in exchange. As he went by the coach, he took 
his place the day before at Mr. Guyon's office, where he found the 
Capuchin McDermott, a professed spy, who for the things made 
known to me by his own confession (and those certainly are the 
most harmless) deserves to be made an example of The Capuchin 
knew the Chevalier O'Neil, with whom he renewed acquaintance ; 
and finding in the com*se of conversation he had come over with 
me, he begged he would introduce him to me, which the chevalier 
did. He told me that as I did not understand English he would 
be my interpreter, and do me all the little services in his power. 
I accepted his obliging offer, and that day he dined with me. He 
had been procurator of his order at Vassy, six leagues distant from 
Bar-sur-Aube ; he knew my family, and had seen me, by his 
account, a child. 

''In this, my first interview, I did not communicate to him any- 
thing relative to my having diamonds to dispose of ; in short, I 
acquainted him with no particulars beyond that I had money to 
remit to Paris. He answered that he knew a merchant in the City 
named Motteaux, that if I negotiated through his mea,ns he would 
allow me the same advantage as to traders, whereas Mr. Hammersly 
would deal with me as with a nobleman. He calculated the benefit I 
should reap by placing that sum with Mr. Motteaux, and as it seemed, 
to me rather considerable, and he persuaded me that Mr. Hammersly 
would not make me the same allowance, I determined to go to 
Mr. Motteaux, whither he accompanied me. I delivered to him 
the three thousand pounds sterling I had already received on the 
former bargain." 



146 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

McDermott, it seems, when he and the Count de la Motte were 
taking a stroll together in Kensington Gardens, questioned the 
count, in an off-hand Irish way, as to the sources of his wealth, 
and hinted that he must have made some lucky coups at the 
gaming-table — one had not to know the count long to discover 
that he was a practised gambler — whereupon the count replied, in 
the coolest manner possible, that he was not partial to " play." 
" The truth is," said he, " I married Madame de la Motte, with 
her slender income of eight hundred francs, against the wishes of 
my family, as I had not a single franc of my own ; but we came 
up to Paris, when Madame and the Countess d'Artois recommended 
us to several of the ministers, who in their turn recommended the 
countess to lay her case before the queen. She did so, was taken 
into favour, and hence our present affluence."^ 

" Let us return now to the thirteen diamonds I had left with 
Gray, When the Chevalier O'Neil was gone I went to that 
jeweller, who immediately sent into the City to let Eliason know 
I waited for him at his house. He came, but we made no bargain ; 
eight or ten days passed away in fruitless meetings and consider- 
ations. They often told me they wondered how a gentleman 
should have such a knowledge of diamonds as to ascertain the 
exact value of them ; but that I certainly must be sensible that 
such articles were difficult to dispose of; that they should perhaps 
be obliged to keep them two or three years upon their hands, during 
which time the interest of the money was lost, and other things to 
the same purport. At length, after much trouble and delay, we 
came to a settlement for the thirteen stones, for the sum of two 
thousand pounds sterling, ready money ; a ring, convertible into a 
neck button, valued at two hundred pounds sterling, and for which 
I lately got but one hundred ; a parcel of very fine pearls for the 
mounting of a pair of bracelets, valued at a hundred and fifty 
pounds ; another parcel of pearls for sixty pounds, and a pair 
of girandole earrings, valued at five hundred pounds. Such were 
the two bargains I made with Eliason in presence of Gray. Six 
diamonds, which formed the trefoil of two oval ones, I exchanged 
at Gray's for a medallion set round with brilliants, two steel swords, 

' Deposition de McDermott. 



THE COUNT CONCLUDES HIS DIAMOND SALES. l47 

a shirt-pin, a pair of asparagus tongs, and a wine syphon. Four 
more diamonds which were between the rose and the four tassels 
were likewise exchanged at Gray's for a ring, still in my possession, 
a small hoop of diamond-seeds, a lady's pocket-case, in satin 
and gold, with all its fittings, a pair of steel buckles, and a 
miniature. 

" I had sixty diamonds left, arising from the tassels, twenty-two 
from the festoons, and the stone which formed the button. Out 
of the sixty I selected twenty-eight, which I gave to Gray to set in 
drop earrings ; and the two-and-twenty of the festoons to make 
into a necklace of one single row. I then had left only thirty-two 
stones arising from the tassels, and stone forming the button, I 
chose the sixteen finest, which I kept unmounted, and the remain- 
ing sixteen I parted with to Gray, at the rate of eighty livres the 
carat, out of which I bought in his shop sundry small matters not 
worth mentioning. Thus terminated all my negotiations for dia- 
monds in London. 

" I had still remaining the button stone, which I showed to Mr. 
Morland, asking him whether he could not find an opportunity of 
selling it to my advantage. He said he would let an acquaint- 
ance inspect it, and let me know his answer in two or three days. 
He did so by telling me he had the stone in his bank, and that one 
thousand guineas had been offered for it, which he believed might 
be increased to twelve hundred. He proposed my calling in Pall 
Mall to take the diamond, and from thence go into the city to Mr. 
Duval's, the person who made the offer ; but that he believed it 
was not for himself. We met with Mr. Duval, who showed me 
several articles in jewellery. I told him my design was not to pur- 
chase any, since I was, on the contrary, come to treat with him 
about a diamond which Mr. Morland had given him to inspect. 
After surveying it a second time, he told me that the person to 
whom he had shown it offered but one thousand pounds, which he 
(Duval) looked upon to be its full value. I took back the dia- 
mond, and resolved to keep it till I found a means to dispose of it 
more advantageously. The same day I gave it to Gray to set in a 
ring. 

" Let us now proceed to the enumeration of those stones that 
were sold and exchanged in Paris. Before my departure for Eng- 



1^8 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

land, the countess had delivered to M. Filleul some diamonds, 
which she had kept privately, that had formed part of the festoons 
and knots of the tassels ; she desired him to sell them for her, and 
pay her the money, charging him not to make me acquainted with 
it. He sold the whole parcel to one Paris, a jeweller, for the sum 
of twenty-eight thousand French livres (francs). Two stones, part 
of the festoons, were exchanged by me for two pendulum clocks at 
one Furet's, in the Rue St. Honor^, with twenty-five louis-d'or in 
addition. One diamond, in like manner from the festoons, was set 
in a ring by Regnier, my jeweller. I had a chain in small brilliants 
which Franks the Jew had sold me ; that I gave to Regnier, adding 
a few small diamonds which belonged to the knots of the tassels, 
the whole of which he made into a chain, which the cardinal's 
counsel valued at forty thousand livres. I with much difficulty 
parted with it for sixti/ pounds sterling in London. It was nearly 
the same with every particular ; they were, in order to obtain their 
ends, obliged to multiply the price for which every article sold in 
a like proportion ; and thus, from this false estimation, endeavour 
to prove that the whole of the Necklace had been in my possession. 

" I had now left in all sixteen diamonds which I had brought 
back from London, four-and-twenty very small ones, which were on 
the sides of each oval stone at the bottom of the tassels, twenty- 
eight encircling the two large oval stones, two small ones on each 
side of the button, eighteen of the small size, six of which held the 
two oval stones between the festoon, and the twelve others which 
were immediately adjoining to the ribbon at top. The rose and 
what held the tassels were not yet taken to pieces. I delivered 
the whole to Regnier, out of all which he selected the best dia- 
monds, and nearly of an equality, to encircle the top of a bonbon- 
niere and mount a small pair of drop earrings which the countess 
wanted to make a present of. The remainder I directed him to 
sell, for which he got thirteen or fourteen thousand livres. These 
made up the number of what I sold, as well at Paris as at London. 
Let us now recapitulate. 

" I received in ready money in London ^ve thousand poujids 
sterling from Mr. Eliason, and fifty or sixty pounds from Mr. Gray. 

"In exchange I received a medallion, a pair of girandole 
earrings, a ring, a shirt-pin, a hoop, two steel swords, a pair of 



THE COUNT SETS OUT ON HIS RETURN HOME. 149 

Steel buckles, one pound of pearl-seed, two rows of pearls forming 
a necklace, a mount for bracelets, a small parcel of pearls, a neck- 
button convertible into a ring, a snuff-box, a pair of asparagus 
tongs, a wine syphon, a lady's pocket-case in satin and gold with 
its fittings, a miniature, and a pen-case of roses valued at sixty 
pounds sterling.! g^j^^ f^^ ^^-^er small articles I had from Gray's 
shop, as needles, knives, steel forks, spring-pincers, scissors, a pair 
of silver buckles, an opera glass, a small steel watch-chain. 

" I sold at Paris to M. Paris several diamonds to the amount of 
twenty-eight thousand livres, and I received nearly fifty louis-d'or 
for a part of the pearl-seed carried from London by the Chevaliei 
O'Neil. The remainder of the pearl-seed was sold to Mordecai, r 
Jew residing in the Rue aux Ours. 

" I have already said I had delivered to Gray twenty-two stoner. 
to set in a necklace, and twenty-six- for drop earrings. I had ac- 
quainted him with the day of my departure, and he had promised 
the work should be completed ; yet the day previous thereto he 
showed me all the pieces, only sketched, assuring me there was a 
great deal more work than he had at first imagined, and that if I 
would leave them with him he had an opportunity of conveying 
them to Paris within a fortnight. I left him the diamonds with 
my address, and set out upon my journey on a Sunday morning 
with the Capuchin McDermott, who attended me as far as Dover. 
At parting with him I made him a present of a snuff-box with a 
very handsome painting on the lid, and defrayed his journey back 
to London. 

"When I left Paris I had taken credit for two thousand crowns ; 
I won at Newmarket near a thousand pounds sterling: out of both 
which sums I expended a hundred guineas in saddlery, harness, 
and race-horse body-cloths, a hundred guineas more for a phaeton, 
a hundred and fifty guineas in English stuffs and clothes for myself 
and servants ; the rest was spent in travelling, and during my six 
weeks' stay in London, which will not appear extraordinary when 
it is known I had taken up my residence at one of the principal 
hotels in that town, that I kept two servants, a hired coach, and 

^ There is evidently some blunder here. This must be the aigrette in the 
form of a rose, for which Gray charged £60. See post, p. 151. 
^ See ante, p. 147. The Count there says twenty-eight. 



150 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 

two saddle horses, that I often gave entertainments, and that 
keeping the most fashionable company, I was obliged to play and 
enter into expensive pleasures. 

" All I now had left of the famous Necklace were two rings — 
one for myself, the other belonging to the countess — a small 
diamond mounted on a plum-coloured stone, a pair of drop earrings, 
and a circle on a black tortoiseshell-box, and what I had left 
with Gray — namely, the necklace of twenty-two stones and the 
earrings. 

" Thus I have given a minute detail of the diamonds I possessed 
and of the manner in which I had disposed of them. 

" From the account I have kept and have just set forth of all 
the diamonds I had in my possession or that of the countess be- 
longing to the Necklace, and by comparing it with an exact re- 
presentation thereof engraved on a scale of the size of the diamonds, 
it appears that the queen had kept two hundred and fifty-six dia- 
monds of the same magnitude, ninety-eight smaller ones of the 
same form, and the two finest diamonds of the first size. The two 
hundred and fifty-six diamonds were what composed the most 
beautiful part of the Necklace, on account of the assemblage and 
the regularity of so great a number of stones."^ 

Unfortunately for the count's reputation for accuracy, a sworn 
affidavit of Gray's, setting forth a true extract from his ledger, and 
produced at the time of the trial, gives the following version of his 
dealings with the count. This not only shows a considerable 
variation of price in respect to several articles received in exchange, 
but yields in round numbers a total of nearly three thousand 
pounds in excess of the amount admitted by the count to have 
been received : — 

Monsieur le Comte de Valois, of London^ 

Db. to Robert Gray. 

May 20th, 1785. 



A medallion set with diamonds 

A diamond ring 

A pearl knot for a lady 



£ 8. 


d. 


>30 





94 10 





52 10 






Prices quoted 

by Count de 

la Motte. 



M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 194, et seq. 



copy ACCOUNT FROM GRAY's LEDGER. 



151 









£ 8. 


d. 






A hand fire-screen ... 


... 


... 


1 4 





Prices quoted 
by Count de 


A funnel and glass ... 


,., 


... 


6 





la Motte. 


A purse 


... 


... 


4 14 


6 






A handsome steel sword 


... 


... 


100 









Ditto ditto 


... 


... 


45 









Two toothpick-cases 


... 


... 


12 12 









A carving-knife and fork 


... 


... 


1 4 









A pair of blue steel buckles ... 


... 


... 


18 









2000 needles 




... 


1 10 









A strong casket 


... 


... 


5 5 









A diamond hoop ring 


... 


... 


13 13 









Four razors 


... 




1 









Setting a diamond ring 




... 


1 8 









A ring-case 


... 


... 


8 









A silk pocket-case, with fittings complete 




12 12 









A corkscrew 




... 


12 









A handsome star-shaped diamond brooch 




400 





300 





A pair of asparagus tongs 


... 


... 


2 12 


6 






A gold watch 


... 


... 


38 









A purse 


... 


... 


4 14 


6 






A cord for a cane ... 




... 


1 1 









A pair of scales for diamonds 


... 


... 


1 1 









A wine syphon 


... 


... 


5 5 









A pair of spring pincers 


... 


... 


10 


6 






A pearl necklace 


... 


... 


170 





200 





1800 pearls 




... 


270 





120 





A diamond aigrette in the form oJ 


arose 


... 


60 





60 





A pair of steel buckles 


... 


... 


18 18 









A watch-chain 


... 


... 


6 16 


6 






A handsome pair of diamond girandole earrings 


600 





500 





A brilliant ring 


... 


... 


100 





200 





A diamond snuff-box 


... 


... 


120 





140 





A diamond shirt-button 


... 


... 


28 









A pair of buckles ... 


... 


... 


7 7 









Ditto ditto 


... 




3 13 


6 






A parcel of pearl-seed and other 


pearls, for 


em- 










broidery- 


... 


... 


1890 





210 





Paid in cash 


3 diamonds 


£1 


6090 






5060 





Total 


0,371 6 




Credit by value received in variou 


I £10,371 6 


0^ 





Pieces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan." 



152 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

While tho count was away leading a lifo of caso and pleasure — 
bargaining, it is true, about diamonds to-day, but " betting at 
Newmarket" on the morrow, riding about town in hia "hired 
coach " or on his " saddle horse," with his groom behind, giving 
*' occasional entertainments at the principal hotels," " keeping tho 
most fashionable company," " playing deeply," and ** entering into 
tho most expensive pleasures," — while all this was going on, 
madamo the countess was putting off troublesome inquiries re- 
specting her husband's whereabout as best she could, saying one 
day that ho was in Berry looking after a legacy, at another time 
that he was in Poictou, and finally that ho was in England, where 
he had won £1000 on a horse-race.^ Still she managed to enjoy 
herself after her own fashion. Cardinal Prince do Kohan re- 
luctantly admitted that she visited him at the episcopal palace at 
Savcrne at tho end of May, dressed in man's clothes, and moreover, 
that he had sent one of tho episcopal carriages to fetch her.^ One 
can fancy the high jinks between the countess and Cagliostro, and 
black-sheep Baron do Planta, and the Prince de Rohan, and " la 
petite comtesse," as Cagliostro's wife was called, over the cardinal's 
matchless Tokay on this notable occasion. 

* " Confrontation du Cardinal de Rohan avec le P6re Loth." 
■ ** Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 



THE COUNT TURNS HLS LETTER OF CREDIT INTO CASH. 153 



xxr. 

1785. June 22— Aug. 6. 

the gathering of the storm. 

On the 22n(l of June, Count de la Motto findy himself in Paris 
again, with a letter of credit for the sum of 122,896 livrcs in his 
pocket-book on Perregaux the banker — the same shrewd Pcrrcgaux 
who, according to the popular story, after refusing the services of 
young Jacques Lafitte, engaged him the instant afterwards from 
observing him pick up and carefully preserve a common pin as in 
dejected mood he crossed the courtyard of the banker's hotel, and 
who subsequently took him into partnership and gave him his 
daugliter in marriage, and so enabled him to found the great houso 
of Lafitte and Co,, of which he was so many years the distinguished 
head. 

The count turns his letter of credit into hard cash on the follow- 
ing day,^ and then calls upon Kegnier with some of the stones he 
had failed to get rid of in England, commissions him to mount the 
best of them round the lid of a circular box (a honOonni^re), to set 
others for a small i)air of drop earrings which the countess intends 
making a present of,^ and sells him the remainder — namely, 
twenty brilliants, weighing in the aggregate forty-two carats, one 
weighing four and a quarter carats, and thirty-nine weighing fifty-nine 
and a half carats — for 27,000 livres, discharging at the same time 
Regnier's claim for setting the two diamond rings for himself 
and madame, and also an old debt due for either jewellery or 
platc.^ 

The De la Mottes now make no secret of the affluence which, 
after years of watching and waiting, is theirs at last. Madame, 
they confidentially admit, is in high favour with the queen, who, 
they insinuate, showers gifts upon her confidant with no niggard 

' Deposition de Perregaux " Sec ante, p. 148. 

3 Deposition de Pegiu'er, 



154 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

hand. The countess's ambition was to be lady of the manor of 
Fontette. She has the means of gratifying it now ; nevertheless, 
it is not to Fontette that she goes, but to Bar-sur-Aube, which, 
with its somewhat free and pleasant society, has greater charms 
for her. On retirement for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, her heart is 
fixed. She and the count had been long looking forward to spend- 
ing the present autumn in their new abode, which by the aid of 
the Parisian decorator, who for months past had been exercising 
his talents upon the principal apartments, was rapidly becoming a 
model of elegance and taste. 

One little thing, however, was somewhat troubling the De la 
Mottes at this moment and casting its shadow across their antici- 
pated enjoyment — namely, the affair of the Necklace, the first 
instalment in respect of which would soon be falling due. Still 
the countess, having accomplished what she had, would surely 
find it no very difficult task to arrange a postponement which 
would leave her husband and herself at liberty to enjoy their 
autumn holiday in peace and quietude. It is with this view that 
the countess calls upon the cardinal, as we have already stated, 
while the count, looking upon the affair as good as settled, hies 
down to Bar-sur-Aube to await the arrival of several waggon-loads 
of furniture which were on their way from Paris. Among these 
we may be certain there were some handsome suites of the very 
latest fashion, supplied, we know, by Hericourt, Fournier, and 
Gervais, the crack upholsterers of the period, at the cost of 50,000 
livres. There was no lack of clocks too from Furet, of marble 
groups from Adams and Chevalier, nor of mirrors, and chandeliers, 
and table-glass, and Wedgwood ware, then getting into fashion in 
Paris, from Sikes.^ A little automaton bird too, that flew about 
the room all alone, and for which madame had given 1500 livres,^ 
would certainly not be forgotten. 

It must have been at this particular juncture that the cardinal 
chanced to see some two or three letters actually written by 
Marie-Antoinette, and that, struck by the dissimilarity of the 
handwriting of these letters and those received from Madame de 

* " Marie- Antoinette et le Proems du Collier," par E. Campardon. Paris, 
1858, p. 98. 

* " M^moire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,'' p. 49. 



THE COUNTESS PAWNS HER JEWELS. 155 

la Motte, he communicated his doubts upon the subject to the 
countess.^ She, with her active brain and ever ready tongue, had 
of course a hundred reasons to prove to the credulous cardinal 
that he was mistaken, and so set his mind at rest. Not so as re- 
garded her own ; she felt none of that confidence with which she 
could so readily inspire her dupe. She feared the mine was on the 
point of being sprung, and that the explosion would take place be- 
fore she could make good her retreat. To reassure alike 
the cardinal and the jewellers she goes with her casket of 
jewels, — which Regnier tells her are worth 100,000 livres to her 
notary, one Mainguet, with whom she pawns them for a loan of 
35,000 livres, 30,000 of which she takes to the Prince de Rohan 
to give to Bohmer and Bassenge. Then she packs off Retaux de 
Villette post-haste to Bar-sur-Aube, and so much is she taken up 
with these urgent matters that she neither dines nor sups nor sleeps 
at home on that day.^ 

One can imagine the consternation of the Count de la Motte as, 
while superintending the arrangement of the new furniture and 
chatting with the decorator respecting the extremely satisfactory 
effect of the tout ensemble of madame's boudoir, he catches sight of 
Villette driving up to the house in hot haste, and looking far more 
grave than is the fellow's wont. The count rushes down the steps 
to meet him — they turn aside for a few minutes' conversation, and 
after a hurried lunch, and some hasty instructions to the work- 
people, the order is given to put fresh horses to the carriage, and 
the pair are soon rattling over the road to Paris. By dint of 
handsome ^^ pourhoires" to postillions, and considerable wear and 
tear of horseflesh, the hundred and forty miles that intervene be- 
tween them and the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles are got over in less 
than the four-and-twenty hours. At noon on the following day 
(August 3) a council is held, at which it is decided that madame 
shall send a message to Bassenge, requesting him to favour her 
with a call. The jeweller, in the belief that the summons can only 
refer to the Necklace, takes the H6tel de Strasbourg in his way, 
sees the cardinal, speaks to him of his own and his partner's in- 

* " Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan." 

* *' Memoire pour le Cardinal de. Rohan," p. 72. 



156 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

quietude at the queen having taken no notice whatever of the 
firm's letter of July 12, and informs him of the message he has re- 
ceived from Madame de la Motte, to whom he now hastens. 
Bassenge finds the countess alone, with no other furniture in the 
apartment beyond a bedstead and a couch, and everything about 
the house betokening a sudden "flitting." The jeweller simply 
thought he was dreaming when, after the ordinaiy compli- 
ments had passed between them, madame, with the calmest 
of countenances and the firmest of voices, said to him: "I 
have sent for you to let you know that you have been deceived — 
the word ' approuve ' and the signature attached to the paper con- 
taining the conditions of sale of the Necklace are forgeries — the 
queen's handwriting has been counterfeited. As for the rest, the 
cardinal, you know, is very rich ; you had better look to him, and 
insist upon his rendering himself personally liable."^ 

Bassenge, as soon as he recovered his self-possession, hurried 
home to communicate to his partner the astounding intelligence he 
had just received, but Bohmer, it will be remembered, was at 
Crespy wdth Madame Campan on this very day.^ The jeweller 
therefore resolved to look in again on the cardinal, and ask an ex- 
planation from him. The Prince de Kohan, on being apprised of 
what the countess had said, shared in the fears of the jeweller, 
though he dared not avow as much. He hesitated for some time 
ere he made a reply ; then he strove to reassure Bassenge by affirm- 
ing that he had in his own possession a -svritten agreement of the 
queen's, and he bade the jeweller go home and make himself per- 
fectly easy ; and home, and somewhat easier in his mind, Bassenge 
went. Great stress was laid at the trial on this mis-statement of 
the cardinal's, still we can very well understand it to have been 
nothing more than an exaggeration of the fact that he was in 
possession of letters which he believed to be written by the queen, 
authorising the purchase of the Necklace on her behalf. 

When Bohmer returns home from Crespy on the following day, 
the two partners compare notes, and decide that the queen ought 
to be seen without a moment's delay. To Versailles, therefore, 
Bohmer hastens, but, as we have already stated, is refused an 

* Deposition de Bassenge. ^ See aiife, p. 135. 



THE QUEEN CONSULTS THE ABBE DE VERMOND. 157 

audience by Marie- Antoinette. A day or two afterwards, however, 
he finds himself summoned by courier to wait upon the queen, who 
has by this time learnt from Madame Campan the result of her 
conversation at Crespy with the crown jeweller, and is anxious to 
hear the astounding recital from his own lips. Bohmer, disregard- 
ing all that Madame Campan has told him, and in the full belief 
that the cardinal holds the queen's written agreement for the pur- 
chase of the Necklace, proceeds to Versailles in all confidence, de- 
termined to be no longer trifled with, even by royalty itself. On 
his arrival he is ushered into the queen's private cabinet, when 
Marie-Antoinette at once inquires of him : "By what fatality it is 
that she is still doomed to hear of his foolish pretensions about 
selling her an article which she had steadily refused for several 
years ? " Bohmer, reassured by what the cardinal had told Bas- 
senge, no longer felt any doubt as to the queen being really a 
party to the purchase of the Necklace, and replied, " that he was 
compelled, being unable to pacify his creditors any longer." 
" What are your creditors to me ? " inquired the queen. Bohmer 
then related to her seriatim all that, according to his deluded 
imagination, had passed between them through the intervention of 
the Cardinal de Kohan. She was equally thunderstruck, incensed, 
and surprised at everything she heard. In vain did she speak ; the 
jeweller, alike importunate and dangerous, repeated incessantly : 
" Madame, this is no time for feigning ; deign to confess that you 
have my Necklace, and order me some assistance, or else a bank- 
ruptcy will soon bring the whole affair to light." ^ 

Marie- Antoinette, driven almost frantic by this flagrant imposture 
and by the wanton manner in which her name had been abused and 
trifled with, immediately sent for the Abbe de Vermond, "her pri- 

^ " Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 283-4. 
Tkladame Campan is the single authority for this reputed interview between 
Bohmer and the queen. Other accounts agree in stating that the queen 
invariably refused to see the crown jeweller, under the pretence that his 
threats of suicide alarmed her. Still, as Madame Campan was so intimately 
mixed up with the affair at this particular juncture, she could hardly be 
mistaken on so important a point as this interview. If it really did take 
place, Bohmer must have kept the cardinal in ignorance of it, for had he 
known of it he would hardly have counselled the jeweller to attempt to 
throw dust in the eyes of the astute De Breteuil. See the next page. 



158 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

vate secretary, her confidant, and her counsellor ;"i and subsequently 
for the Baron de Breteuil — the cardinal's two bitterest enemies. 
Delighted at the prospect they saw of crushing the grand almoner, 
not merely by effecting his utter ruin at court, but by disgracing 
him in the eyes of all Europe, they never for a moment thought of 
the consequences of permitting the name of the second personage 
in the kingdom to be mixed up in a swindling transaction and 
associated with those of a profligate ecclesiastic, a wholesale forger, 
a Palais Royal courtesan, a sharper, and an abandoned woman and 
thief. 

Hardly had Bohmer made his partner acquainted with what 
transpired at his interview with the queen, ere another courier in 
the royal livery dashes up to the door of the jewellers' establish- 
ment — " Au Grand Balcon," in the Rue Yendome — this time with 
a letter from the Baron de Breteuil, minister of justice and of the 
king's household, and the Prince de Rohan's declared enemy, again 
requiring Bohmer's attendance at Versailles. On the receipt of 
this new summons, Bohmer hurries off to the cardinal for instruc- 
tions and finds his eminence by this time pretty well crazed with 
this same Necklace business. Nevertheless he enjoins the jeweller 
not to breathe a word about the queen, for should the minister dis- 
cover that her majesty had purchased the detested jewel, he would 
certainly inform the king, and they would all be involved in one 
common disgrace. Should the Baron de Rreteuil question him as 
to the meaning of the letter which the firm had sent to the queen, 
he had better reply that it referred to some new set of diamonds 
which they desired to sell to her majesty. 

Primed with these equivocal instructions, the crown jeweller 
proceeds nervously to his interview with the minister; but 
whether he was as reticent as the cardinal bade him be on the sub- 
ject of the sale of the Necklace we have our doubts. Bohmer's 
object was to get his money ; but then he dared not fly in face of 
the instructions he received from the minister. He therefore 
played fast and loose with the cardinal, not daring to break with 
him for fear he should loose his 1,400,000 livres, but betraying him, 
so far as he thought he might safely venture to do, to his acknow- 

' "Memoirs of Marie Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 284. 



THE DB LA MOTTBS SEEK REFUGE AT THE PALAIS-CARDINAL. 159 

ledged enemy. The result was that a few days afterwards, on the 
recommendation of the Baron de Breteuil, who assured the jewellers 
that they should be paid for the Necklace, a memorial was drawn 
up and forwarded to the queen by the crown jewellers, wherein was 
set forth a complete history of the negotiations which had been 
entered into with the cardinal, and which had resulted in the sale 
to him of the Necklace, as they believed, on her majesty's account. 

At this point the arch intrigante seems to have lost her head, 
for on the morning of the 4th, the day after she had made her 
damaging admission to Bassenge respecting the signature to the 
contract, she sends her maid to the Hotel de Strasbourg to beg 
the cardinal to call upon her. He does so, when she receives him 
seemingly all in tears, and tells him that she is a victim to the 
malevolence of the courtiers of Versailles, who are jealous of the 
favour shown her by the queen ; that she is obliged to fly to avoid 
their attacks, and entreats of him to afford her an asylum until 
she can provide herself with some safe retreat. The stupid 
cardinal, not even yet convinced that he has been duped, or, if so, 
fearing to admit as much, hesitates at first, but eventually con- 
sents to receive her, her husband, and her maid at his hotel.^ The 
countess afterwards pretended that it was the cardinal who sent 
for her and the count ; that he kept them almost prisoners, and 
used every argument to induce them to cross the frontier into 
Germany with all speed, so as to be out of the way when the 
storm burst forth. She even went so far as to say that the count 
was obliged to threaten to use force ere he could get released.^ 

Only one motive can be suggested for the countess taking refuge 
at the Palais-Cardinal. She knew, or she suspected, that the 
police were watching her house and tracking her footsteps, and 
she did not know how soon the outstretched hand of justice might 
be upraised to strike, and she may have thought from the cardinal's 
high position, and the power and influence of his friends and con- 
nections, that the police would not dare to violate the sanctity of 
the episcopal domicile. For two entire days the De la Mottes 
remained in close seclusion at the Hotel de Strasbourg, when 



" M^moire pour le Cardinal de E/Ohan," p. 74. 
Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 375, et seq., 
and "Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." 



2 (< 



160 THE STOBY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

finding the confinement irksome, or thinking possibly that tho 
affair would be certain to be hushed up, or that the law if put in 
force would not trouble itself about a couple of fugitives hidden in 
some far-away country town in the Champagne, they left the 
cardinal's on the evening of the 5th of August for their own house 
in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles. 

Arrived there the De la Mottes without a moment's loss of time 
appear to have made arrangements for sending the forger Villette 
out of the way. Madame, calling him aside, confides to him 
what he is already well aware of, namely, that her aff'airs are 
somewhat embarrassed, and that she and the count propose retir- 
ing to Bar-sur-Aube until the storm has blown over and the 
atmosphere is a trifle clearer. Placing 4000 livres in bank-notes 
in her faithful secretary's hand, "Go you," said she, "to Italy for 
a time ;" and then to console the lover, whom hard necessity forced 
her to abandon, she added, " I will soon recall you near me again." 
The docile Villette promised to do as he was bid. A cabriolet 
seems to have been in waiting for him in the court-yard of the 
countess's house, and into it Villette got, and a little after two 
o'clock in the morning he was presumed to be on his way to self- 
exile.^ 

The following morning, while the count was giving some 
directions respecting the last van-load of furniture, which was 
then being packed in the court-yard of the 'hotel, Bassenge looked 
in, and in answer to his inquiries after madame's health was in- 
formed by the count that she had been at Versailles for the last 
three days pleading for the cardinal. De la Motte added that he 
had only returned from Bar-sur-Aube three days before, when he 
heard about the Necklace business for the first time. " If," re- 
marked he in a jocular way, "the queen should ask you the 
meaning of the letter of thanks which I hear you have addressed 
to her, why not say it merely meant that the Necklace had always 
been at her disposition, and that it was only a renewal of the 
off'ers of it w^hich had been previously made T ^ 

^ " M6moire pour le Cardinal de Eolian," p. 83. Villette evidently- 
lingered for some time on French soil, for his passport for Italy was not 
dated until August 20, two days after the countess's arrest. 

^ Deposition de Bassenge. 



THE COUNTESS WILL RETURN WHEN NEEDED. 161 

No sooner had the count seen the last van-load of furniture 
safely oflf than he went with Father Loth to Mainguet the notary, 
paid him his 35,000 livres, and took away the jewels which 
madame had deposited with him a few days previously.^ These 
were necessary to the coming display which the De la Mottes were 
bent upon making at Bar-sur-Aube. Determined to lose no 
further time, the count and countess set out the same evening for 
their country retreat ; and it is said that at the moment the 
countess stepped into the carriage she consoled the cardinal by 
promising to return the very instant he should have need of her.^ 

* Deposition du P6re Loth. 

= "M^moire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour," etc., par R^tanx de 
ViUette, p. 59. 



162 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXII. 

1785. August 8-17. 

TWELVE days' STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE. 

The countess had informed Beugnot, who had called upon her a 
short time previously to inquire if she had any commands for Bar 
sur-Aube, whither he was about returning to spend his holidays, 
that it would not be until the commencement of October that she 
would again have the pleasure of seeing him. " I was therefore 
very much surprised," observes he, " to see Madame de la Motte 
arrive at Bar-sur-Aube in the early part of August, bringing with 
her her entire establishment, husband included. Villette alone re- 
mained in Paris as a forlorn sentinel, and, what appeared most 
strange, every day there arrived waggons loaded with furniture — 
a far larger quantity in fact than the house would hold — and 
magnificent furniture too. There were numerous handsome 
mirrors and looking-glasses with which the walls of the salon, 
already resplendent with a profusion of gilding, were decorated ; 
the chairs and couches, covered with beautiful tapestry, were also 
gilt.^ Furet's clocks, and Adams and Chevalier's marble groups 
and bronzes ornamented the mantelpieces, and scattered about the 
salon were some of those costly fancies with which the arts contrive 
to tempt the extremest opulence, such as a pair of automatic 
canaries that sang a duet together, and another automaton bird, 
which flew about the room of itself. There were likewise two gold 
musical boxes — things which have become common enough since, 
but were still rare at that time ; and clocks w^hich by means of 
certain mechanical arrangements displayed different scenes every 

^ " Some of the De la Mottes' fine furniture may still be seen at Bar-sur- 
Aube, in the salon of the son of a former postmaster of the place, who 
subsequently bought the house itself of the count. To-day, improvements 
in the town of Bar-sur-Aube have necessitated the partial destruction of the 
Be la Motte abode, fragments of which exist in no less than three separate 
streets."— i;e«er/rom the Cure of Bo.r-sur-Auhe to the author, 1866. 



THE DE LA MOTTES' FINE FURNITURE AND VEHICLES. 163 

hour they struck. On seeing these things, one divined that they 
could only have been bought by people tired of their money and 
anxious for the first opportunity of flinging ic out of window. In 
the dining-room were two magnificent buffets on which were dis- 
played a profusion of valuable porcelain and two complete services 
of silver plate. "^ The hangings of the countess's bed were of 
crimson velvet trimmed with gold lace and fringe and embroidered 
with gold and spangles, while the counterpane was worked all over 
with pearls^ brought, it will be remembered, by the count from 
England, and for which Gray had charged him over two thousand 
two hundred pounds, and which, according to the countess, were 
reported in the neighbourhood to be of the value of one hundred 
and fifty thousand livres. " As a consummation of imprudence," 
remarks Beugnot, " the De la Mottes exhibited a casket containing 
more than two hundred thousand livres worth of diamonds, the 
count himself being supplied with a far larger quantity than 
seemed proper for an honest man," 

" In the De la Mottes' stables were twelve splendid horses, and 
in their coach-house no fewer than five or six handsome carriages, 
made in England," says Beugnot, " with a care and intelhgence 
which showed that expense was the last thing these people troubled 
themselves about." Among these vehicles was a light and beauti- 
ful cabriolet in the form of a balloon, and upwards of ten feet high. 
In this singular vehicle the Count de la Motte used to drive about 
the neighbourhood, stared at by the gaping peasants and towns- 
people.^ The countess when paying visits of ceremony rode in a 
carriage drawn by six horses with little silver bells jingling at their 
collars and foxes' brushes flopping at their ears. She was in- 
variably preceded by a couple of outriders, and one day greatly 
astonished the Abbot of Clairvaux— who, though a little king in 
these parts, only sported four horses himself— by driving up to the 



^ "M^nioires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 70, 71. 

2 " Authentic Adventures of the Countess de la Motte," p. 119. 

3 Ibid. p. 120. The author of this work states that he was at Bar-sur- 
Aube at this particular period, and saw the count riding about in the 
balloon-shaped carriage above mentioned. Balloons, it should be remem- 
bered, were then a recent invention, Montgolfier having made his first 
ascent in December, 1783, some twenty months previously. 



164 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

abbey gateway in this unwonted state. The number of servants 
on the De la Motte establishment was considerable, and their 
liveries were as a matter of course extremely rich. Among them 
was one of those little negro pages called "jokeis," then much in 
fashion, engaged for madame's special service. In short, the count 
and countess at this period of their career displayed in all their 
appointments a magnificence and a profusion more than rivalling 
that of the wealthiest families in France. 

Madame's superb embroidered robes and her valuable point lace 
were only in keeping with the splendour of her househould display. 
As for her jewels, she no longer depended on a pair of diamond 
bracelets to attract attention, for had she not now the magnificent 
pair of girandole earrings for which Gray the jeweller had charged 
the count six hundred pounds sterling, and the diamond star-shaped 
brooch which had cost another four hundred pounds, and one of 
the handsomest diamonds in the whole Necklace set as a ring by 
Regnier, besides other diamond rings innumerable ? The necklace, 
formed of " twenty-two of the very finest diamonds from the fes- 
toons," which Gray had mounted in accordance with the count's 
instructions, was flashing at this moment in the jeweller's shop 
window, 13, New Bond Street, dazzling the eyes of Piccadilly and 
Bond Street loungers, and exciting the envy of high-born English 
beauties ; for Gray, hard man that he was, w^ould not part with the 
handsome jewel to the Capuchin McDermott — whom the count had 
commissioned to procure it, and who had made application for it to 
Gray on the count's behalf — until he had been paid the expense of 
setting. 

" We used to think," remarks Beugnot, " that the Cardinal de 
Rohan paid for all this brilliant extravagance, and we admired the 
good use which his eminence made of the funds of the grand al- 
monry. The first representation we had witnessed of the magni- 
ficence of the De la Motte household had astonished us ; at this 
fresh display we felt uneasy and well nigh indignant. Neither 
husband nor w^fe showed the least inquietude. Their dinners were 
excellent ; and fete followed upon fete. They endeavoured to at- 
tract the neighbourhood to their house and get invited out in re- 
turn, and to a certain extent they succeeded,"^ 

^ " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 71. 



BEUGNOT ACCOMPANIES THE COUNT TO BRIENNE. 165 

Within about ten miles or so of Bar-sur-Aube.is Brienne, famous 
for its military school, where the young Bonaparte it will be re- 
membered studied mathematics and the art of war ; and where, in 
the neighbouring chateau, lived Louis Lomenie de Brienne, last 
Count of Brienne, who was brother of the Archbishop of Sens, 
prime minister of France just before the outbreak of the Eevolution, 
and himself war minister for a time under Louis XVI. The ends 
of both brothers were alike untimely. One, the archbishop, died 
from a midnight carouse in which he was forced to join by the 
Jacobin emissaries who came to carry him off from his palace at 
Sens to the guillotine ; the other by the guillotine itself, going 
thither in the same set of tumbrils as Madame Elisabeth, the king's 
sister. At the Chateau de Brienne — a splendid edifice built by the 
count with the large fortune he received with his wife, the daughter 
of a Yioh fermier-gene'ral — as at almost every other chateau of import- 
ance at this period, private theatricals appear to have been in vogue. 

" M. de la Motte one day mentioned to me," remarks Beugnot, 
" that he had received an invitation to one of these entertainments 
at the Chateau de Brienne, and would be pleased if I would accom- 
pany him and accept of a seat in his carriage. Being well known to 
M. de Brienne, I acceded to the count's request without hesitation, 
and on the appointed day we set forth in a gorgeous equipage 
drawn by four splendidly-caparisoned horses, and with three foot- 
men behind us. Prior to our starting I felt strongly inclined to 
recede, as I foresaw that I should have to undergo my share of 
ridicule for this ostentatious display. On our arrival at the chateau 
we alighted to the great scandal of those who saw us arrive. 
Happily for us the preparations for the pla}'- absorbed almost every- 
body's attention, and among others that of the master and mistress 
of the house. We entered the salon so that we might be seen, and 
passed from thence into the salle de spectacle. I was seated by the 
side of M. de la Motte, and soon perceived that he was the object 
of malevolent glasses, which were passed from hand to hand with 
shruggings of shoulders and mocking smiles. He certainly 
furnished a good subject for them, for he was dressed in a most 
singular style, and, what was in the worst of taste, diamonds were 
displayed in every part of his toilette at a period when the greatest 
simplicity already reigned in male attire." 



186 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

One can picture the count with one side of his three-cornered 
hat looped up with the magnificent diamond aigrette which he had 
bought of Gray, and with the medallion set with diamonds for 
which he had given two hundred and thirty pounds attached to a 
ribbon round his neck; with his diamond watch-chain, his various 
diamond rings, and his diamond snufi'-box, value one hundred and 
twenty pounds ; and with one or other of the very handsome steel 
swords which he had brought over with him from England swing- 
ing at his side. 

" The count wore a dress coat of sky-blue cloth, a white waist- 
coat embroidered all over, and breeches of canary-colour taffeta. 
Still this only indicated the somewhat antiquated elegant ; but here 
is what completed the absurdity. Madame de la Motte had taken 
it into her head to have the left facing of her husband's coat em- 
broidered over with a fine bouquet of lilies and roses intermixed. 
Nothing of the kind had been worn by any one up to that time, 
and most certainly not since. Everj^body was asking what it could 
possibly mean : there were some who professed to see in it a sort of 
parody upon the united escutcheons of monsieur and madam e, one 
of which contained Jieurs-de-lis, the other roses. Stupidity and 
self-conceit could hardly have gone further. 

"When the play was over we returned to the salon. The 
assembly was composed of the distinguished families of the neigh- 
bourhood and of men of letters from Paris — of the Abbe Morellet, 
la Harpe, Masson de Morvilliers, &c. I saluted Madame de 
Brienne, who scarcely condescended to nod to me in return, and 
then turned her back upon me. My reception by the master of 
the house was reduced to a " Good evening, sir," uttered in a dry 
tone. One feels ill at ease in the midst of a numerous circle after 
having been coldly received by the host and hostess. I continued 
standing, not knowing whither to bend my steps in the midst of 
this hostile camp, when my good star brought to the salon the 
Count de Dampierre, a great bore, who relieved me of my difficulty 
by at once seizing hold of me. He profited by the opportunity to 
speak to me of innovations of every kind which were already fer- 
menting in his brain ; and under the circumstances it was quite a 
treat to me to listen to him. In order that we might not be 
separated during supper, he dragged me at once to table, and 



THE LOQUACIOUS COUNT DB DAMPIEREE. 167 

seated me by his side, when he oflfered me in his own person the 
example of an individual capable of speaking with warmth and eat- 
ing with avidity at one and the same moment. I was occasionally a 
trifle inattentive, owing to my desire to observe how my travelling- 
companion was faring ; but M. de Dampierre always brought me 
back to the subject of his discourse. ' Never mind him,' he would 
say, ' he's only some poor devil of a swell at whose expense people 
have been amusing themselves for the last two hours. Do you 
know him ? ' 

" ' Yes, a little.' 

" ' Well, what is he 1 Is he one of us ? Does he know where 
we are ? ' 

" 'Not the least in the world.' 

" ' Well, then, let them do what they please with him ; ' and M. 
de Dampierre forthwith resumed his dissertation. 

" I only knew from the tales told by some of the guests of the 
tricks which had been played upon M. de la Motte at the supper- 
table. It seems that in spite of the splendid repast spread before 
his eyes he had been debarred from partaking of the slightest 
nourishment, and that he rose from the table as badly ballasted 
as Sancho Panza at the conclusion of the first feast served to him 
under his own government. This could only have been brought 
about by a concert of ' good turns,' the success of which enrap- 
tured the originators who came to relate the affair to us. The 
Count de Dampierre inveighed against this interruption : 

"*Ah! well, well! but leave us alone; we have neither dia- 
monds nor canary-coloured breeches, nor bouquets embroidered at 
our button-holes. There is your man cowering in the chimney- 
corner : go and laugh at his expense, since he isr in the humour to 
submit to it, and permit us to talk sense ! ' 

*' After a time M. de la Motte grew bold, and came to me to 
propose that we should leave. I consented with all my heart ; 
but there still remained a dreg at the bottom of the cup for me to 
swallow. 

" When I went in all humility to salute M. de Brienne, and to 
ask him almost tremblingly if he had any commands to give me 
for Bar-sur-Aube, he signalled to me to advance, so that in getting 
clear of the hands of M. de Dampierre I fell into those of M. de 



168 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Brienne, who was quite M. de Dampierre's equal in holding fast to 
a good listener. M. de Brienne had not been at table, and had 
had of course nothing to do with the practical jokes of which M. de 
la Motte had been the victim. Indeed, he had listened with sup- 
pressed anger to the account which had been given him of the 
tricks played off upon the count, still he did not approve of my 
having presented myself at his house in such company. I excused 
myself as well as I could, assuring him M. de la Motte had in- 
formed me that he was invited for that particular day. M. de 
Brienne proved to me that whether M. de la Motte was invited or 
not, I did very wrong to accompany him. I agreed with him, and 
asked his pardon, as the shortest way of terminating the discus- 
sion, whereupon he immediately opened a conversation upon 
another subject. There were scarcely any affairs in the commune 
in which M. de Brienne did not take a lively interest, and he did 
me the honour to consult me upon many of them, consequently 
there were plenty of materials for a lengthened conversation. 

*'Poor M. de la Motte remained at a distance, watching our 
gestures, and awaiting the moment when I should be at liberty. 
During all this time people passed and repassed him with expres- 
sions of contempt or pity. I did not dare utter his name, though 
I had observed he had been waiting for me fully an hour. I risked 
a first salute to M. de Brienne, as if about to take my leave, but 
he paid no attention whatever to it, and continued speaking. A 
few minutes afterwards I made a new attempt to release myself, 
whereupon my host proposed to me to sleep at Brienne. As our 
discussion continued I could see that my travelling-companion was 
on live coals. At last, by a courageous effort, I succeeded in dis- 
engaging myself, and left with M. de la Motte. We stepped into 
his magnificent carriage, having behind us two footmen with lighted 
torches, and a negro covered from head to foot with silver lace. 
The windows of the salon looked out upon the court of honour of 
the chateau ; Madame de Brienne and every one present were at 
the windows to observe the magnificence of our departure, and 
saluted us by clapping their hands, laughing, and indulging in 
mocking remarks which distinctly reached our ears. The carriage 
only rolled on the faster."^ 

^ " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 71, et seq. 



HONOURS PAID TO MADAME DE LA MOTTE. 169 

A day or two afterwards Madame de la Motte proposed to Beiig- 
not to accompany her on a visit she was about to pay to the Duke 
de Penthievre, but Beugnot, not wishing to place himself in a 
ridiculous position a second time, very decidedly declined the honour. 
He however accepted the countess's offer to set him down at Clair- 
vaux, where he had been invited, and which was on the road from 
Bar-sur-Aube to Chateau-Villain, and to call and fetch him on her 
return in the evening. 

" In accordance with this arrangement," says Beugnot, " we left 
Bar-sur-Aube at eight o'clock in the morning of the 17th of August, 
1785, a day I shall never forget. Madame de la Motte having set 
me down at Clairvaux, as had been agreed, went on to Chateau- 
Yillain, where she dined and met with a reception which astonished 
those who composed the Penthievre court. The duke himself re- 
conducted the countess at her departure to the door of the salon 
opening on to the grand staircase, an honour which he did not pay 
even to duchesses, but reserved exclusively for princesses of the 
blood-royal, so strongly were the lessons of Madame de Maintenon 
on the honours to be paid to illegitimacy impressed upon his 
mind."i 

' "M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 76-77. 



170 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACB. 



XXIII. 

1785. August 15-23. 

lettres-de-cachet in the (eil-de-bceuf in the rue saint-claude 

and at bar-sur-aube. 

At noon on the 15tli of August, 1785, on the festival of the Assump- 
tion, and the fete-day of Marie- Antoinette, the Cardinal de Kohan, 
attired in his sacerdotal robes, was waiting in the Salle de I'CEil-de- 
Bceuf the arrival of the king and queen, before whom he was about 
to celebrate high mass in the chapel of the Chateau of Versailles. 
Conspicuous among the cardinal's vestments was his gorgeously-em- 
broidered alb — worn by him only upon grand occasions, and 
valued at upwards of one hundred thousand livres, with his arms 
and device, in the form of medallions, crowning the larger and more 
brilliant flowers of which the rich and elaborate design was com- 
posed,^ The handsome Salle de I'CEil-de-Boeuf, which takes its 
name from the two bull's-eye windows level with the ceiling, was 
thronged, according to custom, with noblemen of every degree of 
rank, grand court ladies, great officers of State, soldiers and 
dignitaries of the Church, all watching for the doors communicating 
with the royal apartments to be thrown open, and for the king 
and queen to make their appearance. As it was in the days of the 
Grand Monarque — as it was in Louis XVI. 's time — as it was on 
that eventful morning of October 7, 1789, when the chateau was 
stormed and the terror-stricken Marie-Antoinette fled across it for 
life, when the loud cry arose of " Save the queen " — so the Salle de 
rOEil-de-Boeuf is now. Bound the ceiling, from which hang sus- 
pended three magnificent chandeliers of rock-crystal, runs a hand- 
some deep-gilt frieze of cupids, some with hunting-horns, and dogs 
engaged in the chase ; others either reaping or binding sheaves of 
corn, or snaring birds or playing at see-saw. At the sides of the 

^ " M^moires de la Baronne d'Oberkirche," vol. i. p. 127. 



THE CARDINAL SUMMONED TO THE KING. 171 

doorway leading into the grand looking-glass gallery, where those 
not having the entree of the (Eil-de-Bosuf were accustomed to con- 
gregate to see the royal procession pass, are two equestrian por- 
traits, the one of Louis XIV. in the costume of a Eoman warrior, 
wearing, however, his customary full-bottomed wig, with Fame 
crowning him with a wreath of laurel ; the other of the king's 
brother, the Duke d'Orleans. Facing the same doorway is an 
elaborate mythological picture representing the Grand Monarque 
surrounded by his family, all being robed in exceedingly scanty 
draperies, the wigs of the men forming their principal article of 
attire, and all having that unpleasant leer in the eyes which the 
painters of the seventeenth century seemed to have considered 
peculiarly bewitching, if not quite becoming. 

Suddenly the doors are flung open, but, instead of the tall Suisse 
shouting out the customary announcement, " Messieurs, le Roi P' 
the Cardinal Prince de Eohan is summoned to attend the king in 
his private cabinet. 

On proceeding; thither, the grand almoner found the king and 
queen together. Louis XVI., without any preliminary observa- 
tions, thus abruptly addressed him : 

" I hear you have purchased some diamonds of Bohmer T 

" Yes, sire," replied the cardinal. 

" Pra}^, what have you done with them V inquired the king. 

" I thought they had been delivered to her majesty." 

" Who commissioned you to make the purchase T 

" A lady called the Countess de la Motte-Valois, who handed 
me a letter from the queen, and I thought I was performing my 
duty to her majesty when- 1 undertook this negotiation." 

"How, sir," exclaimed the queen, "could you believe that I 
should select you, to whom I have not spoken these eight years, 
to negotiate anything for me, and especially through the media- 
tion of such a woman — a woman, too, whom I do not even know ? " 

"I see plainly that I have been cruelly duped," replied the 
grand almoner, darting upon the queen as he said so a look of in- 
dignation and disdain.^ "I will pay for the Necklace : my desire 

^ See Georgel, who attributed this movement of the cardinal's to his firm 
belief at the time that the queen had really employed Madame de la Motte 
as her intermediary in the Kecklace affair. 



172 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

to be of service to your majesty blinded me. I suspected no trick 
in the affair, and I am sorry for it." 

The cardinal then took from his pocket-book a letter purporting 
to be written by the queen to Madame de la Motte, and intrusting 
her with the commission. This letter he handed to the king, who 
after looking at it held it towards the cardinal, saying : " This is 
neither written nor signed by the queen. How could a prince of 
the house of Rohan, and a grand almoner of France, ever think 
that the queen wo aid sign herself Marie-Antoinette de France ? 
Everybody knows that queens sign their baptismal names only." 

Louis XVI. then produced the copy of a letter sent by the 
cardinal to Bohmer, and inquired whether he had ever written such 
a letter. After glancing over it, the grand almoner replied that 
he had no recollection of having done so ; but when the king asked 
him what he would say if the original letter, signed by himself, 
were shown to him, the cardinal could not but confess that the 
letter was genuine. 

" ' If this be the case,' observed the king, ' explain to me the 
whole of this enigma. I do not wish to believe you guilty ; I had 
rather you would justify your conduct. Account, therefore, for 
these manoeuvres with Bohmer, these securities, and these notes.' 

" In reply to the king's remarks, the grand almoner, who was 
extremely confused, kept continually repeating : ' I have been de- 
ceived, sire. I will pay for the Necklace. " I ask pardon of your 
majesties.' Then turning pale, and leaning against the table, he 
said : ' Sire, I am too much agitated to answer your majesty in a 
way ' 

" ' Compose yourself,' interposed the king, ' and retire into the 
adjoining closet. You will there find pens, ink, and paper ; write 
down what you have to say to me.' 

"The grand almoner retired as directed, and returned in about a 
quarter of an hour with a written statement of a somewhat inco- 
herent character. After receiving it, Louis XVI. commanded him 
to withdraw." ^ 

^ "Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 13, 
14, 15, 286-7. Madame Campan has extracted the foregoing narrative, 
nearly word for word, from a newspaper of the time— the Journal des 
Debuts. See the Abb6 Soulavie's • ' M^moires Historiques et Politiques du 



THE CARDINAL ARRESTED. 173 

De Besenval says that at this moment the king warned the car- 
dinal he was about to be arrested. " Oh, sire ! " exclaimed the 
prince, " I shall always obey the orders of your majesty, but deign 
to spare me the shame of being arrested in my pontifical habit 
before the eyes of the entire court." " It is necessary it should be 
so," replied the king. The cardinal wished to insist, but the king 
abruptly quitted him.^ On leaving the royal cabinet the grand 
almoner encountered his deadly enemy, the Baron de Breteuil, who 
had been lying in wait for him, and who at once called out to a 
sub-lieutenant of his majesty's body-guard, " In the king's name, 
follow me ! Arrest the Cardinal de Rohan ! " The officer proceeded 
to take charge of his prisoner, who, precipitated as it were in a 
moment from his high pinnacle of fortune, was conducted on foot 
in his rich pontifical vestments, guarded on all sides, and pressed 
upon by an amazed crowd of court idlers and hangers-on, to his 
h6tel looking upon the north wing of the chateau. The distance 
he had to go was not great, through the long looking-glass gallery 
— every eye in the immense throng with which it was lined being 
turned inquisitively upon him — through a few apartments and down 
the marble staircase, and across the marble court and the broad 
" Cour Royale," with the noonday sun shedding its burning rays 
upon his head, and gilding as it were his gorgeous vestments ; past 
the gaudy, gilded, and over-decorated chapel in which he. Grand 
Almoner of France, was never more to officiate with a king and 
queen and a brilliant court appearing to give ear to his ministra- 
tions ; thence through the iron gate leading into the Rue des Re- 
servoirs, where the Hotel de Rohan — a singularly plain-looking 
building, with rather a pretty garden approached from a balus- 
traded terrace in the rear, and easily identified at the present day 
from the circumstance of its being the residence of the receiver- 
general of the district — was situated.^ So soon as the necessary 

r^gne de Louis XVI.," vol. vi. p. 81, et seq., where the same account will 
be found quoted. 

^ "M^moires du Baron de Besenval," vol. iii. p. 127. The baron adds 
that he heard the whole- of this detail told to the queen, but nothing was 
said of the contents of the paper written by the cardinal. 

=" It is No. 6 in the Rue des Reservoirs. Vide " Histoire Anecdotique 
des Rues de Versailles," par J. A. Le Roi. 



171 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOXD NECKLACE. 

preparations could be made, the cardinal, guarded like a common 
criminal, was whisked off to Paris to the Hotel de Strasbourg, 
from whence he was speedily transferred to the Bastille. 

Ere, however, he quitted the palace of Versailles, "notwith- 
standing the escort that surrounded him, and favoured by the at- 
tendant crowd, the grand almoner stopped for a few moments, and 
stooping down with his face towards the wall, as if to fasten his 
buckle or his garter, snatched out his pencil and hastily wrote a few 
words on a scrap of paper placed under his hand in his square red 
cap. He rose again and proceeded. On entering his hotel he con- 
trived to slip this paper unperceived into the hand of a confidential 
*heyduc ' who waited for him at the door of his apartment." The 
heyduc posts off to Paris, and arrives at the Palais-Cardinal early 
in the afternoon. His horse falls dead in the stable, and he him 
self swoons in the apai-tment of the Abbe Georgel after exclaiming 
wildly, " All is lost ; the prince is arrested." The slip of paper 
which drops from his hand is caught up and read with eagerness 
by the abbe, and in accordance with the instructions contained in 
it, the scarlet portfolio which held all the cardinal's secret corres- 
pondence, including the letters — gilt-edged or bordered with vig- 
nettes hleiies — penned by the phantom queen, and on which the 
Prince de Ptohan set such store, is forthwith committed to the 
flames.^ 

While the foregoing events were transpiring the Count and 
Countess de la Motte were receiving and returning visits in tran- 
quil security at Bar-sur-Aube. It was two days after the arrest of 
the cardinal that the countess set out on her visit to the Duke de 
Penthievre at Chateau- Villain, and Beugnot was awaiting her 

^ There are other versions of this incident : we have, however, preferred to 
follow the Abbe Georgel's. See " M(5nioires pour servir," etc., a^oI. ii. pp. 
103-4. Madame Campan sa5's that the cardinal borrowed the pencil which 
he iTsed from the sub-heiitenant into A^hose custody he was given, and who, 
when reprimanded for having permitted the cardinal to write, excused 
himself by saying that the orders he received did not forbid his doing so ; 
and that, moreover, being himself in great pecuniary difficulties, he thought 
the unaccustomed summons, "In the king's name, follow me, " addressed 
to him by the Baron de Breteuil, concerned him personally, which for the 
moment so unnerved him that he hardly knew what he was doing. See 
" Madame Campan 's Memoirs," vol. ii. pp. 15, 16, 284. 



THE ABBOT AND ABBEY OP CLAIRVAUX. 175 

arrival at Clairvaux in the evening. The abbot had pressed the 
young lawyer to pass three days there if the ensuing fete of Saint- 
Bernard would not frighten him, and had promised him as a reward 
that he should hear the famous Abb§ Maury from Paris preach the 
saint's panegyric. " I agreed," says. Beugnot, " with all my heart. 
The day of Saint-Bernard was a grand affair at Clairvaux. The 
poor who presented themselves at the door of the abbey received 
charity, and the bourgeoisie of Bar-sur-Aube and its environs were 
entertained at dinner in the refectory, at which the abbot presided. 
I desired to be present at this ba,nquet to laugh at the abbot, who 
had spoken to me of this old custom as a piece of tomfoolery he 
was about to suppress, and had mentioned with contempt the 
guests who would be present at it. 

" The Abbot of Clairvaux was above the middle height, and of a 
fine and graceful figure. When after his election he had the 
honour of being presented to the king at Versailles, the queen, 
struck with his handsome person and the dignity with which he 
wore the costume of his order, could not refrain exclaiming, 'What 
a handsome monk ! ' Dom Bocourt was polite with men and 
gallant with women, and with all this, or in spite of it, very 
stupid. I was never able," says Beugnot, " to make him compre- 
hend when the Revolution arrived that the age had done with him, 
his abbey, and his monks^ who would have been only too happy to 
abandon him."^ The Abbey of Clairvaux, founded in the year 
1114, was one of the richest and most magnificent abbeys in 
France. Its annual revenue was between three and four hundred 
thousand francs. Situated in a picturesque glen, the conventual 
buildings comprised the abbot's residence, a handsome church, said 
not to have been inferior to Notre Dame de Paris, and where 
several early French kings and princes lay buried, with a treasury 
for its ornaments and relics, an infirmary, a refectory and dormi- 
tories : besides which there were a valuable library and beautiful 
gardens.^ Lastly, one must not forget its gigantic wine-vat, which 
held upwards of 200,000 gallons. To-day the abbey is a house of 
detention for criminals ; the site of its magnificent church — de- 



I (( 



Mdmoires du Comte Beugnot," vol, i. p. 79. 
'* Essais Historiques sur la ville de Bar-sur-Aube," par J. G. F. 



176 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

molished during the first year of the Restoration — being now a 
prison-yard. The abbot usually drove out with four horses to his 
carriage, and had an outrider to precede him. He caused himself 
to be addressed as "my lord" by his monks and dependents, and 
by the many persons who had need of his assistance. He governed 
despotically numerous convents of monks and nuns that were 
dependent on his abbey, and it is said that he took especial pleasure 
in visiting the nunneries subject to his sway.^ 

We left Beugnot at Clairvaux waiting Madame de la Motte's 
return. Soon after eight o'clock she made her appearance, when 
he at once acquainted her with the engagement he had entered 
into. She wished to share it and remain for the f^te of Saint- 
Bernard, but the abbot excused himself, explaining to her that the 
fete was altogether a religious one, and that the ladies who 
commonly inhabited Clairvaux fled from it on that day, abandon- 
ing it to the religious of Saint-Bernard and to their children. 
They returned, however, on the following day, and the abbot, who 
was lost in reverence and adoration of Madame de la Motte, pressed 
her to augment their number. He was no doubt aware of the 
intimate connection which existed between the countess and the 
Cardinal de Rohan, and he treated her accordingly like a princess 
of the church. 

A large company was assembled at the abbey on this particular 
evening in anticipation of meeting the Abbp Maury, whose arrival 
from Paris was now momentarily expected. The clock having 
struck nine without the looked-for guest making his appearance, 
the company sat down to the supper-table. Scarcely had they 
taken their seats, however, before the sound of carriage-wheels 
announced some new arrival. This proved to be the Abb6 Maury, 
with " his Jesuitic eyes, his impassive brazen face, image of all 
the cardinal sins," who, after being welcomed by his brother 
ecclesiastic, and introduced to the guests in the supper-room, 
without being allowed time to change his travelling-dress, took his 
seat at table, when, as a matter of course, he was at once assailed 
by the inquiry as to whether there was anything stirring in Paris 
— in fact, any news. 

* *' M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 79, 80, 



IT IS ALL CAGLIOSTRO. 177 

"'What mean you? — any news?' replied the Abb6 Maury; 
* why, where do you all come from ? There is a piece of news 
which none can understand, which has astonished and bewildered 
all Paris. The Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, was 
arrested last Tuesday, the festival of the Assumption, in his 
pontifical vestments, as he was leaving the king's cabinet. They 
talk of a Diamond Necklace which he was to have bought for the 
queen, but which he did not buy at all. Is it not inconceivable 
that for such a bauble as this a grand almoner of France should 
have been arrested in his pontifical vestments — do you understand, 
in his pontifical vestments ? — and on leaving the king's cabinet 1 ' 

"As soon as this intelligence reached my ear," says Count 
Beugnot, whose narrative we are quoting, " I glanced at Madame 
de la Motte, whose napkin had fallen from her hand, and whose 
pale and rigid face seemed as it were immovably fixed above her 
plate. After the first shock was over she made an effort and 
rushed out of the room, followed by one of the chief attendants. 
In the course of a few minutes I left the table and joined her. 
The horses were already put to her carriage, so we at once set forth." 

" ' I have perhaps done wrong in leaving so suddenly, above all 
in the presence of the Abb6 Maury,' remarked Madame de la Motte. 
'Not at all,' replied I; 'your relations with the cardinal are 
known, and almost avowed. He may have to forfeit his life per- 
haps ; your plan is to run away in advance of couriers, letters, or 
news. You would have done wrong in losing time by supping at 
Clairvaux— but can you explain this arrest to yourself ? ' ' No, — 
at least only through some trick of Cagliostro's : the cardinal is in- 
fatuated with him : it is not my fault, I have warned him a 
hundred times.' 'So much the better,' remarked I; 'but what is 
this story about a Necklace which the cardinal has been buying for 
the queen? How is it that a cardinal is charged with such a 
purchase ? and how comes it about that the queen should choose 
for such a commission Prince Louis, w^hom she openly detests ? ' 
' I repeat to you, it is all Cagliostro.' ' But you have received this 
charlatan at your house. Are you not compromised in any way 
with him ? ' ' Absolutely not in the least, and I am perfectly 
tranquil ; I did very wrong to le^ve the supper-table.' ' It was 
not wrong. If you are tranquil on your own account, you ought 



178 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

not to be so on account of an unfortunate friend.' *Ah! bah! you 
do not know him ; only see him in a difficulty ; he is capable of 
abusing a hundred persons, of saying a hundred foolish things to 
get himself out of it.' 'Madame de la Motte,' replied I, ' you have 
just said more than I wished to hear ; I have a last service to pro- 
pose to you ; it is now ten o'clock at night, we are approaching 
Bayet. I am going to leave you there in care of a friend for 
whom you know I can answer. I will return with your carriage 
to Bar-sur-Aube, and will warn M. de la Motte, who in an hour's 
time can come and fetch you in a post-chaise drawn by your best 
pair of horses. He will take charge of your most valuable effects, 
and you will together take, this very night, the road to Chalons, 
since that to Troyes would not be safe for you. Do not go to 
Boulogne, Calais, or Dieppe, at which places instructions perhaps 
have been already given to stop you ; between these ports there 
are twenty places where for ten louis they will land you in Eng- 
land.' * Sir,' replied Madame de la Motte, ' you are wearying me ; 
I have allowed you to go on to the end because I was thinking of 
something else. Is it necessary to repeat to you ten times running 
that I have nothing to do with this affair? I repeat it, I am very 
sorry at having left the table, as though I were an accomplice in 
your cardinal's fooleries.' * Madame,' observed I, *let us say no 
more on the subject. Still I should like to add once more — after 
your avowal — that you will repent not having followed my advice. 
May Heaven grant in this case that your repentance may not be 
more poignant than usual.' 

" We drove along in silence for half a hour. As we entered the 
town I entreated her to at least bum any papers which might com- 
promise her or the cardinal. ' It is,' said I, ' a measure dictated by 
honour on the one side and by prudence on the other.' She con- 
sented ; I offered to assist her, and as she did not refuse, on leav- 
ing the carriage I accompanied her to her room. Her husband, 
who had left home early in the morning to join a hunting party, had 
not yet returned. We opened a large chest of sandal-wood filled 
with papers of all colours and dimensions. Being nervously 
anxious to make quick work of the matter, I inquired if there were 
amongst them any bills of exchange, bonds, bank-notes, or drafts, 
and on receiving an answer in the negative I proposed to throw the 



THE COUNTESS EXAMINES HER PAPERS. 179 

entire heap into the the fire. She insisted on at least a cursory 
examination being made of them. We proceeded with it, very 
slowly on her part, very precipitately on mine. It was whilst 
casting furtive glances upon some of the hundreds of letters from 
the Cardinal de Rohan, that I saw with pity the ravages which the 
delirium of love, aided by that of ambition, had wrought in the 
mind of this unhappy man. It is fortunate for the cardinal's 
memory that these letters were destroyed, but it is a loss for the 
history of human passions. What must have been the state of 
society when a prince of the church did not hesitate to write, to 
sign, and to address to a woman letters which in our days a man 
who respects himself the least in the world might commence read- 
ing, but would certainly never finish 1 

" Among these motley papers there were invoices, offers of estates 
for sale, prospectuses and advertisements of new inventions, &c. 
Some of the letters were from Bohmer and Bassenge, and made 
mention of the Necklace, spoke of terms expired, acknowledged the 
receipt of certain sums, and asked for larger ones. I consulted 
Madame de la Motte as to what should be done with them. Find- 
ing her hesitate, I took the shortest course, and threw them all 
into the fire. The affair occupied a considerable time. When it 
was over I took my leave of Madame de la Motte, urging her more 
strongly than ever to depart. She only answered me by promis- 
ing to go to bed immediately. I then quitted her apartments, the 
atmosphere of which was poisoned by the odour arrising from burn- 
ing paper and wax impregnated with twenty diff'erent perfumes. 
It was three o'clock in the morning; at four o'clock she w^as 
arrested, and at half-past four was on her way to the Bastille. 
The examination which I had made of her papers, although a super- 
ficial one, had settled my doubts. I had observed so much ex- 
travagance in the letters of the cardinal, that I believed both he 
and the countess lost, and the one through the other. "^ 

The countess was sound asleep when the officers of justice 

arrived. An inspector of police drew aside the bed curtains, and 

arousing her, showed her the lettre-de-cachet for her arrest.^ From 

this moment until her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countesis 

^ •' M(5moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 80, et seq. 

=> " Anecdotes du r^gne de Louis XVI.," vol. i. p. 385. 



180 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

was closely guarded by exempts and cavalry of the marshalsea, 
while other exempts compelled her husband, who had returned home 
in the meantime, to accompany them while they made a strict search 
throughout the house."^ 

*' M. de la Motte," observes Beugnot, ** was very little affected at 
the arrest of his wife. He had been hunting the day before, and 
contemplated devoting several more days to this amusement. He 
called on me at six o'clock in the morning, and told me in a quiet, 
confidential sort of way, of the countess's arrest. He assumed a 
calmness in my presence that surprised me. ' Madame,' said he, 
' will only be away for three or four days at the utmost. She is 
going to give the minister some explanations which he requires of 
her. I reckon that she will return on Wednesday or Thursday, 
when we will go and meet her, and bring her home in triumph.' 
' Sir,' I replied to him, *you are I dare say unaware that last night 
I advised your wife to start at once for England, and by the quickest 
route. Had she followed my counsel, she would not be as she now 
is, on the high road to Bastille. I now advise you to follow the 
course I suggested to her, which will be much safer for you than 
losing precious time and deceiving yourself by vain illusions.' The 
count shrugged his shoulders and left me, humming a tune. On 
the same day he took his place in the diligence, and gained Eng- 
land without delay. It was on the 18th of August that he left. 
Four days afterwards the police came to p.rrest him,"^ but found 
their bird had flown. 

Neither the forger Villette nor the counterfeit queen D'Oliva 
were objects of suspicion even until several weeks had elapsed; 
but eight days after the arrest of the cardinal, the Count de Cag- 
liostro and his wife were arrested and sent to join the grand al- 
moner and the Countess de la Motte in the Bastille. In a 
memorial prepared by CagUostro, wherein he puts forward a claim 
for damages on account of the losses sustained by him in conse- 
quence of this arrest, he says : " On August 23, 1785, the Com- 
missary Chenon came to my house, attended by a bailiff and eight 
police-officers. He told me that he had orders to escort me to the 
lieutenant of police. He asked me for my keys, and obliged me to 

^ *' Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." 
'" " M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 85, 86. 



ARREST OP THE BARON DE PLANTA. 181 

open my escritoire, which contained various medicines, amongst 
others six bottles of precious balsam. The bailiff in my presence 
seized upon the articles he chose to take, and particularly four 
bottles of the balsam. The shirri thed, accompanied him followed 
their chief's example, and the pillage began." 

The coimt then proceeds to estimate the amount of this pillage 
item by item, and ends by bringing it up to the considerable sum 
of 100,000 livres (£4000 sterling). Amongst these items he cites 
a green pocket-book containing forty-seven bank notes of 1000 livres 
each, besides which he asserts there were gold and silver coin — 
double-louis, sequins, and Spanish quadruples — plate, jewels, dia- 
monds, &c., taken away.^ 

The cardinal's equerry and particular confidant, the Baron de 
Planta — a man of shady character, who had held a commission in 
a Swiss regiment in France, had been broke for some misconduct, 
and had been for years under a cloud at the time he was picked 
up by the Prince de Eohan during his Vienna embassy — was like- 
wise arrested, but had the luck to get released after undergoing a 
brief examination.^ 

^ " M^moire pour le Comte de Cagliostro centre Maltre Chesnon fils et le 
Sieur de Launay," p. 4, et seq. In several of the earlier documents filed in 
the "Affaire du Collier," the prefix "Count" has been marked through 
with a pen, both where it occurs in the body of the instrument and also as 
part of Cagliostro's signature. After a time, the registrar or reporter seems 
to have grown tired of making this excision, and to have allowed the dis- 
piited title to pass unobliterated. 

M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. pp. 49, 108. 



2 li 



182 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXIV. 

1785. Aug. 19— Sept. 13. 

A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT's DRIVE. THE BASTILLE. — A " VALOIS " 

SERVED OFF PEWTER. 

As we have already mentioned, the Cardinal de Eohan immediately 
after his arrest was conducted, closely guarded, to his hotel at 
Versailles. In the afternoon of the same day he was removed to 
Paris, to the Palais-Cardinal, where he remained during the night; 
the officer commanding the escort of royal body-guards, having 
been' solemnly cautioned to that effect, slept in the same apartment 
as his prisoner, whom he never trusted out of his sight for a single 
instant. 

The day following the Marquis de Launay, governor of the 
Bastille, came to receive the grand almoner into his custody, and 
to transfer him to the iron grip of that mysterious state prison 
which rarely rendered up its victims until they were snatched away 
by the icy hand of Death. The cardinal wished to go thither on 
foot under cover of the night, so as to be free from observation. 
This favour was granted him, and, what is far more remarkable, 
he was allowed to take with him a couple of valets de chamhre and 
a secretary, and was informed that he would be permitted to see 
his friends at stated times in the hall of this gloomy fortress.^ At 
a later period of his confinement, he was allowed to drive of an 
evening along the Boulevards in the Governor's carriage, strictly 
guarded of course, and to give grand dinners in his rooms.^ 

The Countess de la Motte was arrested, it will be remembered, 

^ M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his curious collection of autographs 
relating to the affair of the Diamond Necklace, a series of reports from the 
Marquis de Launay to the Baron de Breteuil, which give, day by day, a list of 
the persons who visited the cardinal during his confinement in the Bastille. 

' " Correspondance Secr6te In^dite sur Louis XYL, Iklarie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. i. pp. 600, 616. 



AM I THEN A STATE PEISONER ? 183 

at four o'clock on the morning of the 18th of August, and was at 
once hurried off to Paris, distant about one hundred and forty miles 
from Bar-sur-Aube, " entirely ignorant," she remarks, " whither I 
was intended to be conveyed, and so little anticipating the event 
that I was dozing in the carriage. In the course of our journey the 
vehicle was stopped, and questions asked by some person without, 
to whom the person within said : * Don't you know this carriage 1 ' 
*0h, yes,' replied the other. 'Don't stop us then; we have nothing 
but a state prisoner ;' upon which the vehicle proceeded. Hearing 
this conversation I awoke ; the termination of it roused all my 
faculties. ' What do you say f exclaimed I in a tone of extreme 
agitation. ' A state prisoner ! alas ! then am I a state prisoner V 
' Oh, no, madame, no such thing ;' and these people swore that I 
was not one. But there is some excuse for them ; they belonged 
to the police, and perjury and bearing false witness is no small part 
of their employment. Yet they used such kind expressions that, 
knowing my innocence, I flattered myself I was not deceived. One 
of them said to me : ' Madame, it is so very early, I'm afraid we 
shall not be able to get an interview with the Baron de Breteuil, 
who has given me orders if we arrived too early to conduct you to 
my house, and to wait upon him about eleven ; therefore be com- 
posed and try to sleep a little.' All this time I remained upon my 
seat; but soon after, they desired me to conceal myself in the 
bottom of the vehicle ; this was when we arrived at the Porte St.- 
Antoine, where they endeavoured as much as possible to place them- 
selves in such positions before me that I might neither be seen by 
any one nor observe the turning of the Bastille. Finding myself 
rather warm, ' Let me see,' said I ; and looking out I discovered 
the Bastille. *How!' exclaimed I, with agitated surprise; 'is it to 
the Bastille then that I am going ? Oh ! you are all impostors !' 
They endeavoured to pacify me, and begged me not to make a dis- 
turbance ; told me that they were not their own masters ; that they 
had received their orders, but that they were absolutely ignorant of 
the motive for which I was taken to the Bastille, and that they were 
persuaded in a very few days I should be liberated. 

"By this time we arrived at the first bridge leading to the 
governor's house. The postillion knocked, and many mvalides came 
out. The post-chaise belonging to the police drove up to the 



184 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

governor's door, who came out himself in a robe de cliamhre to the 
carriage to give me his hand, begging me at the same time to excuse 
his deshabille. He then conducted me into a large hall. Soon 
afterwards, the king's lieutenant arrived with a large book, wherein 
he entered the date of my arrival, and afterwards presented it to me 
to sign my name, which request I complied with. During this 
ceremony, which only occupied a few minutes, the governor was in 
the court with the exempts, who were giving him an account of 
every circumstance which occurred in the execution of their orders. 
This over, the governor returned, and asked me if I would take any 
refreshment, adding : ^ We shall take great care of you, madame.' 
I then asked him into which apartment I should go to receive the 
Baron de Breteuil, remarking at the same time that I hoped he 
would come at eleven, as the exempts had informed me. 'Oh, there 
is not the least doubt of it, madame,' replied the governor. He 
then called Saint-Jean, the turnkey, to whom he gave my papers, 
to place them, as I have since heard, in the archives ; after which 
the governor desired the king's lieutenant to conduct me to my 
apartment. Some little conversation passed relative to the place 
of my destination, of which the lieutenant seemed uncertain. 
*0h,' said the governor, ^ La Comtee is the best; it is very light.' 
He then put me in charge of the king's lieutenant, whose arm I 
took, persuaded that I should be shown into some other apartment, 
and for a far different purpose. As I went along I saw some soldiers 
{invalides) enveloped in blue cloaks, with large hoods over their 
heads, and long bands hanging down. As I passed them I was not 
a little surprised to see them turn their backs towards me, it being 
the rule when any prisoner arrives for them to turn themselves 
round lest they should take too much notice. I began to laugh 
with the lieutenant at the novelty of this, and particularly at these 
grotesque figures in their masquerade. ... 

" We passed on till we arrived at the court, the staircase of 
which led to the tower of La Comtee. After ascending this we 
arrived at the apartment destined for my reception, all the gates of 
which were very large, and moreover open. St. Jean, who was to 
be my turnkey, attended me thither. 

"Struck with such a dismal change of situatio!i, so very different 
from what I had ever been accustomed to, I could not help express- 



THE countess's POCKETS ARE SEARCHED. 185 

ing my dissatisfaction to the lieutenant. ' If this is the place,' said 
I, ' which the governor pleases to call my apartment, be sure I am 
greatly obliged to him.' I then went to look at the bed, which was 
indeed a wretched one ; told him that it would be impossible for 
me to sleep in so miserable a bed as that, and demanded if he could 
not accommodate me with one as good as the cardinal's? He replied, 
very politely, that he really did not comprehend my meaning. . . . 

"My disapprobation of the bed, however, was attended with 
favourable results, for the turnkey substituted for the one which I 
had great reason to complain of an excellent feather bed with fine 
sheets and curtains. Thus accommodated, and extremely fatigued, 
I attempted to get some rest ; but I was scarce in bed when the 
lieutenant, with my own and another turnkey, a,rrived. The two 
turnkeys examined my clothes and my pockets, out of which they 
took all the contents, consisting of several little articles, particu- 
larly a gold etui set with pearls, another of tortoiseshell, a small 
ivory box ornamented w4th gold, having on its lid a miniature 
with a gold rim, containing a small mirror and some rouge, an 
English pocket-knife, a knife with a tortoiseshell handle and gold 
blade, my purse, containing eighteen louis and about nineteen 
livres, and a gold repeating watch with a diamond chaia 

" Indignant at such humiliating treatment, which I could not 
patiently endure, I remonstrated with some asperity, and threat- 
ened to inform the Baron de Breteuil, whom I was simple enough 
to believe I should see. They were, however, regardless of my 
threats J and having executed their orders, departed through those 
dreadful doors which with their horrid bolts were closed upon me, 
and the sound pierced my very soul. . . . 

" About eight o'clock the turnkey came to my door. I spoke 
to him, but he paid no attention to me, and departed without 
saying a word. I rose to examine my dismal habitation, and 
traversed the room in every direction backwards and forwards. I 
opened the window to see if I could discover anybody, or make 
myself sufficiently conspicuous for any one to see me. I climbed 
upon the sill, and held my face close to the bars, but I could dis- 
cover nothing ; as for people, it was impossible to distinguish 
them." 1 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 389, et s&i. 



186 THiJ STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

At noon the lieutenant of the Bastille came to fetch the countess 
to an interview, as she asserts she thought, with the Baron de 
Breteuil, instead of which she was conducted into the' presence of 
the lieutenant of police and the Commissary Chenon, who com- 
menced examining her respecting the Diamond Necklace, and 
ended by accusing her of having first obtained possession of, and 
afterwards absconding to a foreign country with the missing 
jewel. Madame de la Motte, perfectly unabashed, says that she 
laughed outright in the commissary's face at what she styles the 
"ridiculous absurdity" of such an accusation. Her examination 
was continued day by day, and when completed, the commissary, 
as the countess artfully states, " gabbled over something which she 
scarce understood," but which she nevertheless signed. " It was 
this cunning dissembler," she remarks, " who made me sign those 
odious things which I was supposed to have said myself, and 
which were so detestable that when they were read by his majesty 
he spat upon them, saying, *Fie upon the filthy creature T"^ 

The countess, who in early life was glad to feed upon broken 
victuals passed through a trap-hole in the miserable hovel that 
sheltered the Saint-Remi family at Fontette, appears not to have 
entirely approved of the cuisine of the Bastille. What more par- 
ticularly annoyed her, however, was that she, who had been latterly 
accustomed to gold and silver plate, should now be expected to 
dine off vulgar pewter. According to her .own account, she pre- 
ferred enduring the pangs of hunger to submitting to such an 
indignity, and sent the dishes away untouched. The turnkey, she 
tells us, somewhat surprised at this proceeding, " said in a rude 
manner, 'So then you don't choose to eat, don't you? 'No,' 
replied I, ' I don't choose to eat, and I desire to know if you serve 
the cardinal off pewter ? Inform the governor that the Yalois are 
quite as nice as and entitled to equal respect with the E-ohans.' 
The turnkey was astounded. He looked at me respectfully, and 
mildly answered that he was ignorant who I was ; then begging 
my pardon he departed, and returned shortly afterwards with a 
better dinner served in beautiful dishes with silver covers."^ 

Poor Madame de la Tour, Count de la Motto's sister, having 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 408. 
"" I¥.d. vol. i. p. 416. 



LETTER OF THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE. 



187 



applied to the Marquis de Launay for permission to visit the countess 
in the Bastille, was arrested by two exempts on leaving the 
governor's house, and forthwith conducted to a cell in the gloomy 
old fortress, where she w^as kept confined for a period of six months, 
in spite of the efforts of her husband and family to procure her 
release. This was paying rather a heavy penalty for her feelings 
of sympathy towards an incriminated sister-in-law. 

Before the countess had been immured in the Bastille a fort- 
night, we find her attempting a rambling exculpation of herself in 
a document which bears no address, but was no doubt intended 
to produce an impression on the Baron de Breteuil, and which she 
describes as " Explanatory reflections on the accusations made by 
Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohaii." 

"Does Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan believe me ass 
enough not to have disappeared immediately if I had desired to 
retain the Necklace under some pretext, as he accuses me of 
doing ? 

" Does Monseigneur le Cardinal believe that I caused the Neck- 
lace to be sold here imder the eyes both of the vendor and of 
himself, and that I should have been able, had I been guilty, to 
have so far deluded them as to remain at Paris so tranquilly as I 
did, knowing all the while the date of payment ? Should I not 
rather have taken a safe departure before the moment of payment 
arrived ? Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan was at Saveme for 
six weeks. Could not I have profited by his absence to join my 
husband in England, with my whole household and have remained 
there 1 

" Instead of which my husband was there by his orders, and re- 
turned as agreed upon with Monseigneur le Cardinal. Would it 
have been possible, with me living almost at his door, for him not 
to have given me something during four years, or at least to have 
taken care of me and mine, since all I had was my pension of 800 
livres ? The expenses of my house were always heavy enough to 
make it requisite for the cardinal to give me large sums to keep it 
up ; and at this time I solicited more than ever both at Versailles 
and at Paris. Every day I required voiUires de remise, which were 
very dear ; I had, too, a house at Versailles to reside in when 
there. How, moreover, let me ask, should I have done the bidding 



188 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

of a sovereign without anticipating great returns from it, since 
sooner or later this intimacy would certainly have been discovered? 
How could I have exercised so Httle precaution, I say, as to remain 
in Paris, where, if guilty, I should have taken the utmost care on 
the contrary to appear more at my ease than under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, fearful of being suspected by Monseigneur le Cardinal, 
whose people, and especially M. le Baron de Planta (whom he also 
brought as a witness against me), came continually to my house "? 

"Will Monseigneur le Cardinal dare to deny all the facts which I 
have advanced in my examination, and which will at least convince 
him that I have been forced to this, and that it has only been in 
self-defence ? But he accuses me wrongfully. I must tell the 
truth to prove my innocence, and to prove that he was not in a 
position to use me as a servant, as Monseigneur le Cardinal pre- 
tends, in an affair of such importance, since it concerned the 
person of the queen. Moreover I do not know any one who is 
attached to her. 

" I have the honour to be, with submission, 

" COMTESSE DE VaLOIS DE LA MOTTE DE LA PbNICIERE. 

" At the Bastille this Monday, 29th August, 1785." ^ 

Another letter is extant, bearing date Sept. 13, 1785, evidently 
written by the countess during her confinemeM in the Bastille, though 
it has no signature to it, and which, couched in terms of extreme 
familiarity, is addressed to the Duke de Guines, a very grand 
gentleman of the court, and, what is more, one of the queen's most 
intimate friends. In this letter, in the midst of the most absurd 
and nonsensical details, the countess introduces the names of her 
sister and of Cagliostro and his wife, on the two last of whom she 
seeks to turn the accusation directed against herself.^ The duke, 
who pretended not to understand the drift of the letter, sent it to 
the Baron de BreteuiL 

^ Autograph letter of Madame de la Motte's in the National Archives. 
= Anonymous autograph letter of Madame de la Motte's in the collection 
of M. Feuillet de Conches. 



maeie-antoinbtte's numerous enemies. 189 



XXV. 

effect produced on the public mind by these arrests. -—the 
enemies op the queen. 

It is impossible to conceive the sensation produced throughout 
France, and indeed throughout Europe generally, by these arrests 
and the extravagant rumours to which they gave rise. Marie- 
Antoinette in various ways had unfortunately made numerous, 
enemies — through her persistent efforts, for instance, to get the 
Duke de Choiseul appointed prime minister ; through her too de- 
cided partiality for particular favourites, for whom she secured 
both places and pensions ; and through what was affectedly styled 
her want of prudence — in other words, her open disregard of the 
rigid formalities of French court etiquette. Arrayed against her 
were many of the oldest families in France, each of whom 
cherished some particular grievance of its own. The consequence 
was, there were many hostile interests at work intent upon 
destroying her reputation and bringing about her ruin if need be, 
even at the expense of the monarchy itself, so that the great fraud 
of the Diamond Necklace was altogether regarded in the light of 
a political event, and no time was lost by the different inimical 
factions in twisting it to serve their own purposes, without the 
slightest regard being paid by any one of them to the real char- 
acter of the act itself. 

We will here interrupt the course of our narrative to examine at 
some length into the origin of this widespread animosity against 
the queen, and to trace the causes of its rapid extensions through 
all classes of French society. To do this it will be necessary for 
us to go back to the very outset of her career. 

When Marie-Antoinette, then a young girl of fifteen, first set 
foot on French soil, nothing could exceed the enthusiasm with 
which she was welcomed. Her progress from Strasbourg to Ver- 
sailles was one long ovation. At Versailles, save the dauphin's old 



190 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

maiden aunts, who made themselves sufficiently disagreeable, and 
the king's mistress, Madame Dubarry, who could not tolerate this 
fair and pure young spirit, every one was more or less charmed 
with her. The old king, worn out by excesses, and weary of the 
deceptive flattery which he daily had to listen to, was captivated, 
not merely by her personal graces, but by her frank and lively 
nature, her open unaffected ways. The women may have secretly 
envied her, but the men could not help adoring her. She far ex- 
celled the young female members of the royal family in beauty. 
At the time of her marriage her form was not fully developed : her 
stature was short, and her figui*e altogether small, though perfectly 
proportioned; her arm was finely rounded and of a dazzling white- 
ness, her hand plump, her fingers tapering, her nails transparent 
and rose-coloured, her foot charming. When she grew taller and 
stouter the foot and hand remained perfect, her figure only became 
a little inelegant, and her chest a trifle too broad. Her face 
formed a rather long oval ; her complexion, which was really dazz- 
ling, displayed the most tender shades of colour, from pearly white 
to delicate rose tint ; her eyes were blue, soft, and animated, and 
shaded by long, full lashes ; her nose was aquiline, and slightly 
tapered at the end ; her mouth was small and delicate and well 
arched, her lower lip prominent, after the Austrian type ; her neck 
was slender and a trifle long, but well set ; her forehead was con- 
vex, and furnished with too little of her beautiful chesnut-colour 
hair. The coiffure of the empire would have accomplished marvels 
for her, for the hair turned down over her forehead would have 
given to her face a regular beauty.^ 

Though the young dauphiness was addicted to reverie, and dis- 
played a fondness for retirement in the society of a few chosen 
friends, she was far from being of a reserved disposition ; indeed, 
she was a good deal given to gaiety of that light, playful, almost 
pert character which imparts movement and life to all around. 
She forced every one to laugh with her. She cared nothing for 
the restraints imposed by the barriers of etiquette. If it did not 
please her to walk in stately fashion, she would run and skip 
about, regardless of her train or her ladies of honour. In winter- 

? M. F. Barrifere. 



THE queen's disregard OP COURT ETEQUETTE. 191 

time she would scamper over the slippery ground, dragging after 
her the youngest lady of her court, whose duty it was to hold up 
her train, and delighted while glancing behind at the score of 
racing trains which etiquette required should follow in procession. 
In the old king's days she was known to have even laughed out 
loud in the royal box at Preville's funny face, to the great scandal 
of those who only deigned to smile. ^ 

At the very first court she held after she became queen, pro- 
voked by some pleasantries on the part of one of her ladies, and the 
ridiculous figures cut by certain ancient court dames who had come 
to pay their respects to her, she could not refrain from laughing at 
them behind her fan. This naturally enough gave great offence 
to these antiquated dowagers, who vowed the queen had mocked 
at them, that she had not a proper respect for age, and was utterly 
wanting in propriety. The name of " moqiieuse " was given to her 
in consequence.^ 

The young queen, with the full sanction of her husband, went 
early one morning to see the sun rise from the highest point of 
Marly gardens — a harmless enough proceeding, one would think, 
but which nevertheless gave rise to most disgraceful calumnies. 
On another occasion she displayed her skill as a charioteer, by 
driving about Marly in a cabriolet, preceded merely by a single 
officer of the king's body-guard. This spectacle astonished the 
old courtiers, who had never seen a queen handle the reins before, 
and who therefore pronounced the proceeding highly unbecoming, 
if not, indeed, improper. At Marly, too, Marie- Antoinette 
established a kind of ca/e, to which the lords and ladies of the 
court betook themselves in their morning gowns. All etiquette 
was set aside, and people enjoyed here the same kind of liberty 
which was ordinarily to be met with in establishments of this class. 
Every one had his own little table, at which he was served with 
whatever he asked for.^ 

Marie-Antoinette, who was fond of dancing, organized a series of 
fancy dress balls in the Salle de Comedie at Versailles, into the 

* "Histoire de Marie- Antoinette, " par E. et J. de Goftcourt, pp. 39, 102. 
= ** Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol i. 
3 "Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. i. p. 233, 



192 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

spirit of which her brothers-in-law and their young wives entered 
most heartily. Being herself a good dancer, she was glad to secure 
good dancers for these entertainments, but had to undergo no end 
of reproaches because she, a young queen of twenty years of age, 
had appealed to the minister of -wecr to grant leave of absence to 
certain officers, favourites at these fetes, who had been ordered to 
rejoin their regiments. Everything she did was wrong. ■ She was 
blamed for being present at the summer promenades on the terrace 
of the chateau of Versailles, then open to the general public, when, 
attired in a plain white cambric dress and a simple straw hat, she 
and Madame Elisabeth, and perhaps her married sisters-in-law, 
would mix unobserved among the crowd, or seated on a bench, 
would listen to the music performed by the king's guards ; watch- 
ing and commenting meanwhile on the secret flirtations which 
under cover of the night were carried on on these occasions. 

The foregoing incidents seem to have been harmless enough, but 
the same can hardly be said of her excursions to the hals de Vopera, 
when "lost in their vortex, she was happy or trembling under her 
mask," and whither she would resort attended merely by a single 
lady of the court and with her servants in undress grey liveries. 
On one of these occasions her carriage broke down, and she was 
obliged to have recourse to a public vehicle. On entering the 
theatre she is reported to have exclaimed to her friends, " It is I, 
come in a ^acre .^ Isn't it droll?" One can well conceive an in- 
cident like this giving rise to much unpleasant scandal, and can 
sympathise in the reproaches which her brother the Emperor 
Joseph addressed to her on her frequent presence at these enter- 
tainments. 

It was the misfortune of Marie- Antoinette to have made for her- 
self a host of enemies almost from the very first day she was called 
upon to share a throne. Among others, of her brother-in-law, the 
Count de Provence, who, attached to her at the outset of her car- 
eer, took to quizzing her, and criticising her conduct, and even to 
caricaturing her, while preserving an outward appearance of friend- 
ship towards her, soon after she became a queen. The Prince de 
Conde, allied to the Cardinal de Eohan by marriage, was embittered 
against her because she very properly declined to receive his mis- 
tress, Madame de Monaco, at court. A warm friendship had sprung 



THE DUKE d'oRLEANS' HATRED OF THE QUEEN. 193 

Up between Marie-Antoinette and the young Duke de Chartres, 
afterwards Orleans Egalite, on her first arrival in France ; but after 
a time, Louis XVI., who disliked the duke, and made a point of 
insulting his friends whenever he got the chance, availed himself 
of the duke's known immorality to forbid the queen associating 
with him on the same familiar terms as heretofore. The conse- 
quence was, the duke, who was unaware of the real cause of his 
disgrace, conceived a strong dislike for the queen, who on her part 
retaliated by saying many spiteful things respecting him. Dislike 
grew into hatred, and hatred grew bitter and more bitter, until at 
last the duke pursued Marie- Antoinette with a relentless vengeance 
that was positively diabolic, and which only terminated with her 
life. Dissolute, gouty old De Maurepas, prime minister, and all 
his kin, and more particularly his nephew, the Duke d'Aiguillon, a 
former creature of the Dubarry's, and now a creature of the Duke 
d'Orl^ans, and whose disgrace at court had been brought about by 
the queen's influence, were arrayed against her on account of the 
persistent exertions she made to get her favourite, De Choiseul — 
whom Catherine of Russia used to style the coachman of Europe, 
as when in power he directed all the cabinets — appointed prime 
minister in De Maurepas' stead. M. de Yergennes too, whose 
handsome Greek wife the queen would not consent to receive, 
cherished a steady hatred of her — all the more dangerous because 
it was concealed — and even wrote regular reports respecting her to 
Louis XVL, which the king kept secret, and which only came to 
light on the discovery of the famous ^^ ar moire de fer^^ in the w^U 
of the royal closet in the Tuileries, a few months before the king's 
death. 

At the head of the enemies the queen had succeeded in making 
among her own sex were, Mesdames Adelaide and Louise, two of 
the king's aunts, the former of whom had for a while exercised a 
control over her nephew, and was now jealous and irritated beyond 
measure at the influence which the young queen had acquired over 
her husband. Since their exile to Lorraine, however, these old 
ladies had been comparatively powerless for mischief. The parti- 
ality which Marie- Antoinette displayed for the society of the Coun- 
tess Jules de Polignac, had had the effect of estranging her sisters- 
in-law from her. Count d'Artois, wishing to bring about a recou- 



194 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

ciliation, said one day to the queen, on kissing her hand, " My little 
sister, for a very long time you have slighted your sisters-in-law, 
who are much attached to you, and who feel much afflicted at your 
behaviour. I beg you to bestow on them your warmest friendship, 
for they are worthy of it." The queen replied somewhat petu- 
lantly, "These ladies do not render me the deference which is my 
due ; they ought to remember that I am queen, and, moreover, that 
I belong to the House of Austria, which takes precedence of all." 
The Count d'Artois could not help smiling, and, pressing the 
queen's hand, said, " My little sister, since you jest about the affair, 
I am enchanted, as it proves to me that, whatever rancour may 
exist at present, will not last long." ^ The count, however, did not 
prove himself a true prophet, for the ladies never became com- 
pletely reconciled, and showed merely a distant regard for each 
other. Perhaps the most dangerous enemy the queen had was the 
stiff old Countess de Marsan — herself a Rohan, and cousin of the 
cardinal, for whom in past years she had secured the post of grand 
almoner — who during the late reign had been governess to the 
king's grandchildren, arid who had been from the very first greatly 
scandalized at Marie-Antoinette's freedom of manners : the dau- 
phiness's most innocent acts being magnified by this old prude into 
crimes. If she glanced at any one, it was set down to coquetry ; 
if she chanced to laugh, it was either unbecoming, or else her 
gaiety was all forced ; if she wore her hair loose, she was compared 
to a bacchante ; and even her simple white muslin dresses were 
pronounced to be stage costumes, worn solely to create an effect. 
The Duchess de Noailles, who had been Marie-Antoinette's chief 
lady of honour from the moment of her arrival in France, and 
Madame de Coss6, her lady of the bedchamber, threw up their 
posts on the Princess de Lamballe being appointed mistress of the 
queen's household, and both enlisted themselves among the mal- 
contents, which comprised, in addition to those we have already 
mentioned, the powerful families of Conti, Montmorency, Cler- 
mont-Tonnerre, La Rochefoucauld, and Crillon. 

^ " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Maxie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. i. p. 339. 



THE queen's few REAL FRIENDS. 195 



XXYI. 

LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEn's SOCIETY THERE. 

The enemies of the queen at the moment the Necklace scandal 
burst upon the public were many and formidable ; the real friends 
that she had capable of defending her were but few. The Baron 
de Breteuil was well enough disposed towards her, still it was not 
so much the shielding of the queen's reputation as compassing the 
downfall of his enemy, the Cardinal de Eohan, that he had at 
heart. The Abb6 de Vermond, who had been Marie-Antoinette's 
instructor, and was now a sort of secretary to her, had only his 
fidelity to recommend him. He could influence the queen, but 
wanted the head to direct her wisely. Specious M. de Calonne 
was too busy raising new loans to supply a continually emptying 
royal exchequer to trouble himself about necklaces or cardinals; 
besides, no particular friendship existed now between the queen 
and him. He no longer gallantly told her that if what she re- 
quired was simply difficult it was already done, and that if it was 
impossible, it should be done. The Duke de Choiseul had been 
dead these several months past. Those intimate friends of Marie- 
Antoinette's with whom her daily life was chiefly spent, and who 
formed what was styled her society, shared her unpopularity to 
some extent, for it was the favours heaped upon certain members 
of the Trianon set which had estranged so many of the old nobility 
from her. Moreover, with the exception of the Count d'Artois 
and the Duke de Coigny, there was not a man of influence among 
them who could do her real service in the hour of need. 

The habitue's of the Little Trianon—" the queen's society," as 
they were styled— comprised, first, her youngest brother-in-law, 
the Count d'Artois, who danced with her, hunted with her, acted 
with her, and entered generally into the spirit of her amusements ; 
then there was his wife, the countess, exceedingly short of stature, 
with a complexion as fresh as a rose, and a prepossessing if not a 



196 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

pretty face, yet with a nose which, as Marie-Antoinette wickedly 
remarked, had never been finished; at one time, too, there were 
the Count and Countess de Provence, the latter an elder sister of 
the Countess d'Artois, and the reverse of good-looking. Louis 
XVI. in his blunt way once told his brother that his wife was by 
no means handsome, to which the Count de Provence quietly re- 
plied, " Sire, I find her to my taste, and that is quite sufficient.''^ 
Then there was the queen's sister-in-law, Madame Elisabeth, her 
true and loving friend until death ; next there were the Polignacs, 
foremost among whom was the Countess Jules, the queen's most 
particular favourite, who was very handsome, with expressive blue 
eyes, a ravishing mouth, beautiful small white teeth, a nose just a 
trifle retroiLsse'j a forehead perhaps a little too high, magnificent 
brown hair, a skin almost as white as alabaster, low shoulders and 
a well set neck which seemed to give height to her small figure. 
A touching sweetness formed the foundation of her physiognomy — 
looks, features, smiles, everything with her pai^took of the angelic. 
She had, moreover, wit and grace, and a natural ease and abandon 
which were positively charming. Negligence was her coquetry, 
dishabille her full dress. It has been said of her that she never 
looked better than when in a loose morning gown, and with a sim- 
ple rose, perhaps, in her hair. When the queen first took notice 
of her, she and her husband, with their two- young children, were 
living in a very humble style (we have heard what Madame de la 
Motte had to say of her poverty)- on a miserable income of three 
hundred and twenty pounds a year. A pension of six thousand 
livres was immediately granted her, and ere long she was 
appointed governess of the royal children, wuth a salary of fifty 
thousand livres and her husband named postmaster-general, and 
master of the horse to the queen, with a salary of eighty thousand 
livres ; in addition to which a joint pension of eighty thousand 
livres was conferred upon them, besides other considerable emolu- 
ments which brought their income almost up to three hundred 
thousand livres.^ The count, who through the influence of the 
queen had been raised to the dignity of a duke, seems to have been 

^ " Les derniers jours de Trianon," par M. Capefigue, p. 25. 

=' See ante, p. 50. 

3 "Weber's Memoirs of Marie Antoinette," vol. ii. p. 283. 



THE COUNTESS DIANE AND THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE. 197 

. an aimable sort of man, very generally liked, for he had not 
• allowed his good fortune to spoil him. His sister, the Countess 
Diane, one of Madame Elisabeth's ladies of honour, was given, we 
are told, to gallantry and intrigue; her son by the Marquis 
d'Autichartip — the same wicked rake who was so anxious to escort 
Madame de la Motte from Lnneville to Paris — entered the Russian 
service, and was killed at the battle of Austerlitz.^ Her personal 
appearance was the very reverse of engaging. She was compared 
to a brown owl (she was a southern brunette), with all its feathers 
in disorder, and to a paroquet, with a crooked beak and round eyes 
surrounded by dark circles.^ Nevertheless, she had only to open 
her mouth to have face, form, toilette, the little she had received 
from nature, and the little that she herself did to render herself 
pretty, entirely forgotten. It was impossible to know her and not 
to be prepossessed in her favour. Her arch way of looking at a 
subject, her piquant turn of thought, which was almost epigram- 
matic, her sudden changes from gaiety to sadness, from irony to 
sensibility, her audacity, which nothing could intimidate, her 
daring and contagious recklessness, made her a general favourite 
in the society over which she to some extent dominated. A 
woman like her was invaluable to a court already depressed with 
melancholy, to put life into the conversation, to dissipate dull 
thoughts, to defy alarm, to prophesy fine weather, and display a 
perfect disregard for the future. 

The young Princess de Lamballe, one of the earliest friends 
Marie-Antoinette made in France, ranked next to the Countess 
Jules de Polignac in her favour. She was a trifle jealous at hav- 
ing been supplanted by her rival, and rather held aloof from the 
Trianon coterie. Extremely beautiful, as amiable as she was 
handsome, and left a widow when she was only eighteen — her 
husband, son of the old Duke de Penthievre, who received Madame 
de la Motte so courteously at Chateau- Villain, having fallen a 
victim to early debauchery — a peculiar interest attached to her. 
A native of the sunny south, she nevertheless possessed all the 
northern graces. The sweet serenity of her countenance was its 

^ " Lettres et Documents Ind^dits de Louis XYI. et Marie- Antoinette," 
par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. iii, p. 318. 

^ "Souvenirs de la Marquise de Cr^qui," par le Corate de Courchamps. 



198 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

great cTiarm : there was tranquillity even in the flash of her eye. 
On her beautiful forehead, shaded by her long fair hair, not a 
cloud, not a trace existed of the early grief she had been called 
upon to suffer. Her mind had all the serene beauty of her face. 
She was gentle, affectionate, full of caresses, always just, always 
ready to make sacrifices, devoted even in trifles, and disinterested 
above everything. Who has not felt pity for her subsequent un- 
happy fate 1 

No one occupied a more prominent position in the queen's 
society at the Little Trianon than the Baron de Besenval, a hand- 
some-looking man past middle age, tall and well proportioned, 
with sharply-defined profile and large well-formed nose, quick, 
intelligent eye, and a small mouth curled up in a mocking and dis- 
dainful pout. Of cultivated tastes, full of insolent grace, perfectly 
content with himself and ever ready to laugh at others, pleasure 
was the sole pursuit of his life until the death of Louis XV. brought 
him into closer contact with the Count d'Artois, colonel-general of 
the Swiss guards, in which corps Besenval, himself a Swiss, held a 
command. Of the count he made a friend, got presented through 
his influence to the queen, whose confidence he secured and 
whom he almost directed ; was appointed lieutenant-general of the 
army, grand cross commander of St. -Louis, and inspector-general of 
the Swiss guards, without seeming at all -astonished at his good 
fortune. In the hour of danger, however, he was found singularly 
wanting, and it was soon evident that he was not the man to save 
the monarchy or stem the tide of revolution. His conduct while 
in command of the army of Paris has been very generally and 
deservedly condemned. 

M. de Vaudreuil was another prominent member of the Trianon 
coterie, who, entering early in life the highest and most exclusive 
society of Versailles, had come to the conclusion that human 
nature, as it was to be found in courts, was neither so very beauti- 
ful nor so very great as was commonly represented. Intellect 
charmed him, and above all that intellect which sparkled with wit 
He was the friend of all clever men, spoke but rarely himself, but 
would lie in wait behind the hubbub of the talkers and suddenly 
discharge his arrow right at the mark. What made him a 
favourite with the queen was the fact of his being the best private 



SOME HABITUES OF THE LITTLE TRIANON. 199 

actor of his day. When young he had been remarkably handsome, 
but the small-pox had destroyed his good looks. Suffering from 
disease of the lungs, and subject to nervous twitchings of the 
body and to frequent fits of depression, he had all the immunities 
of a sick person accorded him. The good nature of the Duchess 
de Polignac and the indulgence of his friends caused them to 
tolerate his caprices and whims. His disposition changed daily 
according to his bodily ailments ; still he was not without certain 
vigorous virtues, for he was noble, generous, frank, loyal, and a 
devoted and constant friend. 

Next on the list of the queen's favourites comes M. d'Adhemar, 
whose musical skill and admirable voice had procured him the 
applause of the master of the king's music. He wrote verses and 
songs, acted well, and accompanied himself on the harpsichord. 
His was but a little mind • nevertheless, under a guise of modesty 
and humility he nourished grand schemes of ambition, and eventu- 
ally succeeded in securing for himself the English embassy, in con- 
nection with which we shall hear of him again. His complaisance 
was proverbial ; he courted every one, offended no one, made 
innocent jokes in an undertone of voice, and never lost his temper. 
It will be understood what manner of man he was when we re- 
mark, that the women spoke to him when they had nothing to say, 
the men when they had nothing to do. Harmless as he appears 
to have been, he did not escape the notice of the lampooners of 
the time, who characterized him as — 

" Un marquis de hasard, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
Chevalier d'industrie, 
Major d'infanterie, 
Colin de com^die, 
C'est Monsieur d'Adhemar, a, a, a, a." * 

The remaining habitues of the Little Trianon were the three 
Coignys : the Duke de Coigny, the queen's most constant friend, 
whom the Trianon set desired to make her lover, which the Duke 
d' Orleans maintained he already was — styling the young dauphin 
" Le fils de Coigny ;^ the Count de Coigny, a big, good-tempered 

* *' Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVL, Marie- Antoinette, " 
etc. vol. i. p. 355. 

^ *' Louis XVL," par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 167. 



200 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

man ; and the Chevalier de Coigny, an agreeable flatterer, whom 
all the women strove to secure to themselves, and who was a 
favourite wherever he went ; the Duke de Guines, the " Versailles 
Journal," as he was styled, who knew and repeated all the scandal 
of the court, ridiculed everybody, and was consequently disliked 
by everybody, who was an excellent musician, and prided himself 
immensely on having played the flute with the great Frederick ; 
the Prince d'Henin, a philanthropist at court like a fish out of 
water ; the Bailli du Crussol, who made jokes with a most serious 
air ; the Count de Polastron, who played the violin in a ravishing 
style, and his pale and languishing wife — the amiable " Goddess of 
Melancholy," as she was called; the Count and Countess de 
Chalons ; the Coimt and Countess d'Andlau ; the sensible, witty, 
and good-natured Madame de Coigny ; the Duke de Guiche, 
captain of the king's guards, and his young and lovely duchess, 
daughter of the Duchess Jules de Polignac.^ Besides the forego- 
ing, there were a few distinguished foreigners, such as Princo 
Esterhazy, the Prince de Ligne, the Count de Fersen, a prominent 
member of the Swedish aristocracy, who was styled by the women 
the " Beau Fersen," and who in subsequent years drove the herline 
in which the royal family sought to escape from France, and 
eventually lost his life in an emeute at Stockholm in the year 1810; 
and the Baron de Stedingk, the intimate friend of Fersen and a 
great favourite with Marie-Antoinette, who said to him, on parting 
with him in 1787 : "Remember, M. de Stedingk, that under no 
circumstances can any harm happen to you ; " ^ implying that her 
influence, which she believed to be paramount, would be exercised 
for his protection in whatever quarter of the world he might chance 
to be, and little dreaming that in a very few years there would not 
be another woman in all France so powerless as she. 

Having made acquaintance with the queen's society at the 
Trianon, let us now see what the Trianon itself was like ; that 
Little Trianon to which Marie- Antoinette retired to escape the 

^ "Histoire de Marie- Antoinette, " par E. et J. de Goncourt. Most of 
the foregoing particulars respecting the queen's society at the Little Trianon 
have been derived from this work. 

^ " M^moires Posthumes du Feld-Mar^chal Comte de Stedingk," vol. 
iii. pp. 17, 74. 



THE CARDINAL VISITS THE LITTLE TRIANON IN DISGUISE. 201 

splendours, the restraints, the intrigues, and, most of all, the 
slanders of the court, and enjoy the society of friends of her own 
choosing; a retirement which imhappily gave rise to new calumnies 
— calumnies which it does not seem in nature for one woman to 
invent or propagate of another, but which Madame de la Motte more 
than insinuates in her lying " Memoires Justificatifs," and which 
have outlived the other hideous slanders of which Marie- Antoinette 
was the victim ; that Little Trianon, where Madame de la Motte 
asserts most of her pretended interviews with the queen took place, 
and where she affirms Marie-Antoinette was accustomed to receive 
the Cardinal de Rohan, who, according to the countess's statements, 
would come late at night disguised as a valet, and spend hour after 
hour with the queen in a small pavilion in the gardens while she 
remained outside on the watch.^ On one occasion the Cardinal de 
Rohan certainly did go to the Little Trianon, and in a partial dis- 
guise, but it was by bribing the gatekeeper that he gained admission 
to the grounds. It was at the time when both building and gardens 
were brilliantly illuminated in honour of the visit of the Grand 
Buke Paul of Russia — afterwards the mad and luckless Emperor 
Paul — and his Grand Duchess, who were travelling about Europe 
under the titles of Count and Countess du Nord. The cardinal, 
who professed great anxiety to see these illuminations, promised 
the gatekeeper to remain in his lodge until all the company had left 
for Versailles ; instead of which, when the man's back was turned, 
he slunk into the gardens, and, with his cardinal's red stockings 
showing below his overcoat, took up the most prominent position 
he could select, where he waited for the royal family and its suite 
to pass. The queen saw him and recognised him, and next day 
gave orders for the instant dismissal of the gatekeeper; bat 
Madame Campan, who had been informed of all the circumstances, 
appealed to Marie- Antoinette in the man's behalf, and succeeded in 
getting him retained in his post."^ 

To console Marie- Antoinette for not having appointed her 
favourite, the Duke de Choiseul, prime minister, Louis XVL is 
said to have given her the Little Trianon, which skirts the park of 

^ *' Life of the Countess de la Motte," by herself, vol. i. p. 312, et seq. 
"" " Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 242. 



202 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Versailles and adjoins the gardens of the Great Trianon, to do as 
she pleased with. "You love flowers," said he : " ah ! well, I have 
a bouquet for you — the Little Trianon." 

The repairing and embellishing of this miniature palace, the 
alteration and enlargement of its grounds, with a host of artists 
and gardeners subject to her sway, was for the next year or two 
Marie-Antoinette's greatest delight. The building, erected by the 
architect Gabriel, for Louis XV., is of a square form, and each of 
its sides has a frontage of only seventy feet. It is iu the Italian 
style, and its different fagades are ornamented with Corinthian 
columns or pilasters and enriched friezes and cornices. The de- 
praved old king in the last years of his life was enamoured with 
this " little corner of his grand Versailles." It was to his taste, for 
here he could live in retirement and at his ease. In addition to its 
flower garden, laid out in the formal French style, there was a 
botanical garden, which Louis XIV., at the time he lived at the 
Great Trianon, caused to be planted with exotic trees and shrubs 
of multifarious tints and perfumes then almost unknown in 
France. 

The principal entrance to the Little Trianon leads immediately 
to the grand staircase with its handsome gilded balustrade, in the 
interlacings of which the initials M.A. are prominently displayed. 
Facing the landing, as if in menace, is a .head of the Medusa, 
which proved powerless however to keep out scandal. After a 
small ante-chamber comes the salle-h-manger^ decorated with 
paintings of the four seasons by Dejeune, and bathing and fishing 
subjects by Pater, and the re-joined parquet of which shows traces 
of the opening through which Loriot's flying table was accustomed 
to ascend at the orgies of Louis XV. In this apartment commence 
the ornaments upon the panelling — crossed quivers surmounted 
by wreaths of roses and garlands of flowers — executed by order of 
Marie- Antoinette. The little salon near the salle-d-manger displays 
in relief upon its sides emblems of the vintage and the attributes 
of the genius of comedy. Hanging from festoons of grapes are 
bunches and baskets of fruit, masks and tambourines, flutes and 
' guitars, and beneath the marble beards of the goats that support 
the mantelpiece more bunches of grapes are entwined. At the 
four corners of the cornice of the grand salon are groups of cupids 



THE THEATRE AT THE LITTLE TRIANON. 203 

at play. Each panel, surmounted by the emblems of literature 
and the arts, springs from a stalk of triple flowering lilies, gar- 
landed with laurel and with a wreath of full-blown roses by way of 
crest. Four paintings by Watteau — of those graceful Decameron- 
like subjects in which he excelled — are on the walls of this 
apartment. In the little cabinet which precedes the queen's bed- 
chamber the finest arabesques run over the woodwork ; here are 
cupids bearing cornucopias overflowing with flowers, cooing doves, 
smoking tripods, and crossed bows and arrows hanging to ribbons. 
Bouquets of poppies intermingled with thousands of small flowers, 
all most delicately rendered, are scattered over the panels of the 
bedroom; the bed with its light blue silk hangings, the chairs 
and couches en suite, and the console tables, looking-glasses, clock 
and chandeliers being, it is said, much as they were in the days 
of Marie- Antoinette. 

The most elegant fa9ade of the little palace, with its four fluted 
Corinthian columns and its four flights of steps in the form of an 
Italian terrace, looks over the French garden, with its flower beds 
of geometric form and the flowers themselves planted in straight 
lines. In the centre of this garden, which is bordered by cool 
green arcades formed of trees clipped into shape, is a small pavillion 
with groups of cupids surmounting each of its four entrances. This 
was the summer dining-room of both Louis XV. and Marie- An- 
toinette. At the end of one of these leafy arcades is the theatre, 
where the queen and her friends performed alike comedies and 
operas. Sculptured in high relief above the principal entrance is a 
cupid grasping a lyre and a crown of laurel, with torches, trumpets, 
and rolls of music lying at his feet. The interior decorations of 
the theatre are white and gold ; the orchestra stalls and fronts of 
the boxes are covered w^ith blue velvet, the panels being decorated 
with cupids suspending garlands of flowers. On either side of the 
stage two gilded nymphs gracefully twist themselves into cande- 
labra, and above the curtain two other nymphs support the 
escutcheon of Marie-Antoinette. ^ 

At the back and to the right of the little palace is the queen's 
production, the English garden as it is called, laid out with an 
absence of formality whiclj almost rivals the productions of 
Nature's self. The waters apparently wind according to their own 



204 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

fancy, the trees and shrubs seem to have been sown at the will of 
the wind. Nearly a thousand varieties of trees, some among them 
being most rare, join their shade and mingle the different tints of 
their leaves, which vary from the lightest and deepest greens to 
dark purple and cherry red. The flowers appear to have been 
planted at hazard ; the ground rises and falls at its will ; paths 
wind and go out of the way with provoking pertinacity ; stones 
have been converted into rocks, and small patches of grass made to 
resemble meadows. 

From a hillock in the midst of a thicket of roses, jasmine, and 
myrtle, rises a belvidere, from whence the queen was accustomed 
to take in a view of the whole of her domain. This octangular 
pavilion, with its four windows and its four doors, and its eight 
sphinxes crouching upon the steps, has repeated eight times over, 
in figures upon its skirtings and in emblems over its entrances, 
the allegorj'- of the four seasons, carved by perhaps the cleverest 
chisel of the century. The interior is paved with coloured marbles, 
and coloured arabesques run along its walls, with more bows and 
arrows and quivers, more bouquets and garlands of flowers and 
musical instruments, together with cameos and cages hanging 
from ribbons, and little monkeys and squirrels that scratch the 
sides of a crystal vase or play with the fishes. In the centre of 
the pavilion, a table, from which hang three rings, rests upon three 
claws of gilt bronze ; this is the table at which Marie-Antoinette 
breakfasted, for this belvidere was her morning salle-d-manger. 

From here she could overlook her grotto and the group of 
artificial rocks ; the waterfall, and the trembling bridge thrown 
across the little torrent ; the lake, and, under the shade of the 
shrubs, the embarking and landing-places, with the galley dotted 
all ON Qx y^'ith fleurs-de-lis ; the temple of love open to all the winds, 
with its statue, by Bouchardon, of Cupid trying to trim for himself 
a bow out of the massive club of Hercules; the groves that skirt the 
river's bank ; and, finally, at the most remote part of the garden 
— the background, so to speak, of the picture — the hamlet where 
Marie- Antoinette had the king disguised as a miller, and the Count 
de Provence as a schoolmaster. Here are the little houses of the 
village nestled together like members of one family. The queen's 
is the prettiest of them all, for it has vases filled with flowers, and 



THE HAMLET IN THE ENGLISH GAEDEN. 205 

grape-vines in front of it. On the opposite side of the lake, and 
near to the water's edge, is the white marble dairy, with its four 
goat's-head fountains, and close beside it, and near to a weeping- 
willow planted by the queen's own hand, is the tower of Marl- 
borough, so called from the nursery song which the young 
dauphin's bo7me used to sing to him. Nothing is wanting to this 
pretty village of the stage, neither the cure's house nor that of the 
bailiff; nor the mill, with its wheel which actually turns ; neither 
the farmhouse, with the stone troughs for the cattle, and the little 
barns to store away the corn ; nor the thatched roofs, the wooden 
balconies, the little diamond-paned windows, and the flights of 
steps at the sides of the cottages. Marie-Antoinette and Hubert 
Robert, the painter, had thought of everything, even of painting 
rents in the stone work, cracks in the plaster, with here and there 
beams and bricks jutting out of place, as if time would not wither 
with sufficient rapidity this pleasantry of a queen.^ 

Marie-Antoinette put aside all regal authority at the Trianon. 
Here she was no longer queen, but merely the mistress of the 
establishment, which was like an ordinary coimtry-house, with its 
small retinue of servants and all its unrestrained habits. When 
the queen entered the salon, the ladies neither quitted the piano 
nor their embroidery-frames, nor the men their games at billiards 
or backgammon. The king would come to Trianon on foot, and 
unattended. The queen's guests arrived at two o'clock to dinner, 
and returned to Versailles at midnight. Marie-Antoinette's occu- 
pations and amusements were exclusively those of a country life. 
Attired in a white muslin dress, a lace shawl, and a straw hat, she 
would run about the gardens, or visit her farm, where she would 
take her guests to drink her milk and eat her new-laid eggs ; or 
she would conduct the king to a summer-house, where he could 
read his book undisturbed until she summoned him to a lunch on 
the grass ; after which she would amuse herself by watching the 
milking of her cows, or with fishing in the lake, or, seated on a 
rustic seat, would occupy herself by winding up the distaff of 
some young villager. Now and then she would give some grand 

^ ''Histoire de Marie-Antoinette," par E. et J. de Goncourt, to which 
interesting work we are indebted for the larger portion of the present 
chapter. 



206 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

ball, to which all the courtiers from Versailles would be invited, 
when dancing would go on under a large tent on the lawn in the 
day-time until the sun set, and at night-time almost until it rose 
again. 

All this must have been a great relief from Versailles and Marly 
and the troop of intriguing courtiers that migrated backwards and 
forwards according as royalty pitched its tent at one chateau or 
the other. There was something too morally foul in the atmos- 
phere of both these places. Most of the evenings not given up to 
dancing were spent at play, which some letters of court gossip of 
the time characteristically describe as being "murderous." The 
Count d'Artois, after losing two million francs, was exiled by the 
king to Fontainebleau. On one occasion a certain M. de Chalabre 
lost as much as 42,000 louis at a sitting, and being without suf- 
ficient ready cash to discharge the whole of his obligations, had to 
hand over debts due to him from the Countesses de Provence and 
dArtois, for fifty thousand and twenty-five thousand crowns re- 
spectively. The queen, who was a winner of 7000 louis of poor 
Chalabre's money, sent the next day, we are told, for Mdlle. 
Bertin, her milliner, and paid her account. Among the persons of 
rank and position admitted to these assembles there seem to have 
been both sharpers and pickpockets, for on one occasion a rouleau 
of fifty counterfeit louis was placed on a card by M. du Luc 
dAndilly, an ex-mousquetaire, and son of Count du Luc of 
Picardy. On the cheat being discovered, the king ordered the 
culprit to be degraded from his nobility and declared incapable of 
serving him in future. At another time. Count Arthur Dillon, one 
of the queen's intimate friends, had his pocket picked of his purse 
filled with bank notes. It was suggested that everybody in the 
salon — some forty in number — should be searched, but nothing 
was done, and the count never saw his purse again.^ 

Private theatricals were at this time in great favour with the 
queen, whose Trianon troupe comprised the Count dArtois, who is 
said to have danced passably well on the tight rope, but only acted 
in a manner that was just bearable,^ M. de Vaudreuil, M. 

^ " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Maxie-Antomette," 
etc., vol. i. pp. 238, 330. 
= Ibid. vol. i. p. 315. 



THEATRICALS AT THE LITTLE TRIANON. 207 

d'Adhemar, the Duke and Duchess de Guiche, the Countess 
Diane de Polignac, and M. de Crussol : occasionally the Baron de 
Besenval, the Countess de Polastron, and Counts Esterhazy and 
de Coigny had parts assigned them. The Count de Provence and 
his wife considered these diversions beneath their rank, and the 
king, moreover, disapproved of them. Out of politeness to the 
queen, he was now and then present at the representations, when 
he" habitually hissed the actors. On one occasion, when the 
" Devin du Village " was being played, and the queen was singing 
an air with more than her accustomed taste, all at once a whistle 
was heard from the back of one of the boxes. Marie-Antoinette 
soon perceived that it was from the king himself that this inter- 
ruption proceeded. Advancing to the footlights, she bowed pro- 
foundly, and said, with a smile : " Sir, if you are dissatisfied with 
the performers you can leave, and your money will be returned to 
you."^ She then resumed her song, which she was permitted to 
finish without further interruption. Beaumarchais' comedy of the 
" Barbier de Seville," for which, Madame Campan tells us, Marie- 
Antoinette was studying her part at the time she made the dis- 
closure to her of the conversation she had had with Bohmer 
respecting the Necklacs, was the last piece performed by this 
aristocratic troupe. It was played on the 19th of August, 1785, 
the very day on which the Countess de la Motte was lodged in the 
Bastille. 

* "Les derniers jours de Trianon," par M. Capefigne, p. 84. 



208 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXVII. 

1785. 

CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN, HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST THE 

CARDINAL DE ROHAN. 

From the day she became queen, to +he very hour of her death, 
and even after the grave had closed over her headless corse, the 
unhappy Marie- Antoinette was fated to be the victim of calumny. 
Her youthful levity was magnified into natural vice. Her most 
innocent amusements were made the objects of dark suspicion. 
Her friendships were so many criminal attachments. From Marly 
to Versailles, and from Versailles to Marly, slander pursued her. 
It penetrated the groves of Trianon, and insinuated that secret 
orgies, rivalling those of the "Pare aux cerfs," were carried on in this 
now favourite retreat. Indecent pamphlets referring to her, written 
by hireling scribes, were circulated all over France. Libels against 
her were even forged in the police bureau. Scandalous songs were 
thrown at the king's feet, in the " (Eil-de-Bceuf " Scandalous libels 
were placed under his dinner-napkin. Courtiers repeated the last 
foul epigram, the last lying report against the queen, in the royal 
ante-chambers, whispered it and chuckled over it even in the 
queen's presence ; carried it from Versailles or Marly, post haste 
to Paris, to the different hostile salons, to the green-rooms of the 
theatre and the opera, and to the cafes, thence to be disseminated 
all over the capital, even to the halles ; carried it to their country 
chateaux, and laughed over it at their dinner-tables, whence it 
spread among their tenantry and the inhabitants of the adjacent 
towns : 

'* And they who told it added something new, 
And they who heard it made enlargement too, 
In ev'ry ear it spread, on every tongue it grew." 

Fancy what a perfect fund of scandal this affair of the Necklace, 
enveloped as it was at first in such an impenetrable mystery, pro- 
vided for these despicable minds ! What an arsenal for defamation 



THE QUEEN IS CRUELLY CALUMNIATED. 209 

and calumny it furnished to the avowed enemies of Marie-Antoi- 
nette ! The Orleans faction professed to look upon it as a state 
crime, pretending to believe that the real culprit was the queen, 
who had secured the Necklace through the medium of the cardinal, 
he having been her dupe in the first instance, and afterwards her 
victim. They gave out, through their herd of itinerant agents — 
men without characters, without homes, without bread, without 
settled occupations, fitted only for scandalous adventures, and living 
only by dishonourable expedients — that it w^as Marie-Antoinette 
herself, ^Ha louve Autrichienin ^'' as they styled her, who had met 
the grand almoner in the park of A^ersailles at midnight ; that it 
was she who had heard his exculpation, and had listened to his new 
promises of fealty, which had been sealed by embraces and the gift 
of a rose; and further, that she had subsequently granted him 
several secret interviews at the Little Trianon. On this false basis 
they raised their broad superstructure of defamation, and pursued 
the queen with every species of malignant slander in pasquinades, 
epigrams, and songs,^ " unfit for print or pen, the brutality of which 
nothing can exceed ; but which, nevertheless, found believers — 
increase of believers, in the public exasperation — and did the queen, 
say all her historians, incalculable damage,"^ until finally the hide- 
ous fabrications culminated in the epithet of Messalina, hurled 
at her by the furies of the lialUs on her way to the guillotine. 

To this body of antagonists must be added those retailers of 
gossip and small talk who, in a coimtry like France, where most 
men are mixed up in intrigues, (and no reputation is too sacred for 
the inuendo, the smart sally, and the Ion-mot) delight and revel in 
scandals enveloped in some degree of mystery. There was certainly 
no lack of mystery in the affair of the Necklace, and these quick- 
witted individuals, thinking only of the entangled web offered them 
to unravel, displayed their ingenuity in suggesting clue after clue, 
regardless as to whether this or that clever explanation which they 
put forward compromised the queen or no, for the old loyal feeling 
of the nation was by this time utterly dead. 

^M. de Lescure, in his "La Vraie Marie- Antoinette," brings forward 
evidence of the existence of a private printing press in the cellars of the 
Palais Royal, at which these foul Hbels were struck off. 

"" ♦* Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 36, note. 



210 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

The lower classes of society in France had for some time past 
been brought to believe, and not without reason, that kings and 
queens were their natural enemies ; that they despised, if they did 
not hate, their poorer subjects, whom they only valued as so much 
food for powder, or for what they could furnish to the exchequer 
through the hard extortion of the tax-gatherer. Marie- Antoinette 
was deservedly blamed for her thoughtless acquisition of the 
chateau of St. Cloud, at an outlay of six million francs, at this 
particular period when several bad harvests had imposed new hard- 
ships on the people j when provisions were frightfully scarce, prices 
correspondingly high, and tillage employment, save as "statute 
labour," hardly to be had. The peasants in certain parts had even 
been reduced to live "on meal, husks, and boiled grass." In the 
towns, the distress, if not so great, was still considerable, and large 
numbers of men were out of work. Crowds of idlers, as a matter 
of course, filled the cafes and cabarets — men with fermenting minds, 
and only too ready to believe any new calumny against the objects 
of their disaffection, and to lend their busy tongues to circulate the 
foulest slanders through the land. Upon the quick fancies of these 
thoughtless men, who never paused to examine what they heard, 
the enemies of Marie-Antoinette, who went about inflaming the dis- 
contented, encouraging the angry, and imposing on the thought- 
less and the credulous, made a lasting and fatal impression. 

Whilst the numerous enemies of the queen were thus at work 
turning the Necklace scandal to the best account, the Baron de 
Breteuil, whose hatred of the cardinal knew no bounds, was strain- 
ing every nerve to convert it into an instrument for the effectual 
ruin of his enemy. The Abbe Georgel assures us that this ani- 
mosity went so far as to induce the minister to promise Bohmer — 
who, according to some accounts, had in the first instance been 
arrested in conjunction with Saint- James and others on suspicion of 
being privy to the abuse of the queen's name^ — full payment for 
the Necklace if he would aggravate his evidence against the car- 
dinal. De Breteuil also sent emissaries to the Bastille, to communi- 
cate with Madame de la Motte, offering to save her if she would 
furnish sufficient proof to inculpate his old enemy. 

^ "Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la 
Cour et la Ville," vol. i. p. 587 



BEUGNOT DECLINES TO DEFEND THE COUNTESS. 211 

Beugnot, at this period a rising young barrister of four-and- 
twenty, understood to be an intimate acquaintance of the De la 
Mottes, and known to have been the person last in company with 
the countess previous to her arrest, fully expected to be sent to join 
her in the Bastille. The Baron de Breteuil, however, far from 
ordering Beugnot's arrest, instructed M. de Crosne, — recently ap- 
pointed lieutenant of police in place of M. Lenoir, promoted to the 
presidency of the administration of finances — to send privately for 
the young barrister, when, playing on his vanity, he recommended 
him to take the countess's brief, as the trial was certain to attract 
the eyes of all men, and could hardly fail to push forward a young 
advocate in his career. But Beugnot, who knew his proposed client 
too well, declined to avail himself of the opportunity. " The next 
day," observes he, "I received a new message from M. de Crosne, 
which involved another visit on my part. The lieutenant of police 
gave me an opened letter of Madame de la Motto's, who, not under- 
standing the difficulties which I felt in charging myself with her 
defence, begged me to come and see her. M. de Crosne backed up 
her request with some pressing solicitations of his own; then judg- 
ing from my obstinate refusal, or possibly from something that 
Madame de la Motte had said to him, that I thought there was 
danger attached to the post proposed to me, he sought to reassure 
me on this point, and urged me to see the Baron de Breteuil. I 
declined. * I could say nothing to the minister,' I remarked, 
* which I had not already said to him, neither would the former 
obtain from me what I had refused to the lieutenant of police.' 
M. de Crosne insisted still more strongly, and gave me to understand 
that more condescension on my part to the views of the authorities 
would be neither prejudicial to my professional advancement nor 
to my fortune ; his favourite refrain always being — ' See the Baron 
de Breteuil,' I gave M. de Crosne to understand that I should not 
have that honour, since I did not see to what it could lead, and I 
left him, after obtaining permission to address to him a letter in re- 
ply to the one he had delivered to me. 

" When recalling this scene, I can scarcely doubt the nature of 
the political interest which the Baron de Breteuil took in Madame 
de la Motte. He knew from one of his confidential emissaries, with 
whom I had been conversing, that I treated the stealing of the 



212 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Necklace as comparatively a pitiful incident ; but that I regarded 
the scene in the park almost in the light of a capital crime. This 
was apparently in precise accordance with his own views, and made 
him anxious that Madame de la Motte's counsel should share to the 
fullest extent in his opinions. In replying to the countess's letter, 
I grounded my refusal on my want of talent and experience for so 
grave a business, and I added, that it would be useless for her to 
insist further, as my refusal being dictated to me by my conscience, 
nothing she could urge would induce me to revoke it.^ 

On her side, Marie-Antoinette, deeply and very naturally in- 
censed against the Prince de Rohan, and, truth to tell, quite as 
eager for his destruction as the minister Breteuil, refused likewise 
to look elsewhere for a culprit. Both she and the king believed the 
grand almoner to be guilty of the peculation of the Necklace, and 
of an impertinent abuse of the queen's name. They knew he had 
contracted enormous debts ; they knew, too, that he had been 
charged with tampering with the funds of a rich hospital, the 
Quinze-Vingts, of which he was treasurer, and that he had hitherto 
led a most dissolute life. Was he not, therefore, precisely the man 
who would be likely to perpetrate such a crime ? Already branded 
in public opinion for an alleged malversation of a million of francs 
in the matter of the Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, his office of 
grand almoner, and his dignity as a prince df the Church, could not 
raise him above suspicion. The aversion first excited in the queen's 
mind by the cardinal's private letter against her mother, and his 
injurious representations respecting herself at the court of Vienna, 
was increased to positive hatred by the description of the scene in 
the park of Versailles, by the frequent association of her own name 
with his in people's mouths, as well as by the offensive commen- 
taries provoked by that association. This burning abhorrence, 
continually fed by fresh reports similar in character to the fore- 
going, so blinded Marie-Antoinette to the strict rules and rigid 
formalities of justice, that in her first moments of passion she is 
said to have demanded the cardinal's life of the king, and the king, 
moreover, is believed to have promised her that he should not 
escape the scaffold. 

' *' M^moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. pp. 97-8, 



WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE CAEDINAL ? 213 



XXVIII. 

1785. Sept.— Oct. 
preparations for the trial. — capture op the counterfeit 

QUEEN. 

The Cardinal de Eohaiij who in the first instance was looked upon 
as the grand criminal in the Necklace affair, was no sooner in safe 
keeping than the somewhat difi&cult question arose what should be 
done with him. It is true that the queen, in her first moments of 
anger, urged on by her adviser, the Abb^ Vermond, and the 
cardinal's enemy, the Baron de Breteuil, was for doing swift execu- 
tion upon the grand almoner ; but fortunately for the latter there 
were certain tedious forms of law to be gone through before a 
prince of the holy Roman Church could be consigned to the scaffold. 
Irresolute Louis XVI. had, of course, no opinion of his own upon the 
subject, and it is quite certain that much indecision on the sub- 
ject prevailed among his chief advisers. Phlegmatic M. de Ver- 
gennes, though no friend of the queen, seems to have thought it 
best to hush the matter up, and let the scandal die out if it 
would, and he well-nigh convinced the king that this would be the 
proper course to pursue. While the affair was under discussion, 
Louis XVI. wrote to M. de Vergennes as follows : 

" I thank you, sir, for your new interview with M. de Breteuil. 
I have weighed your reasons ; come to-morrow before mass, and I 
will hear you upon this subject once more. It is necessary that a 
decision should be arrived at, so as to end with this intrigue of a 
needy man, who has so scandalously compromised the queen, and 
who, in order to clear himself, has no other recourse than to allege 
his connection with an adventuress of the worst kind. He dis- 



214 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

honours his ecclesiastical character. Being a cardinal, he is none 
the less a subject of my crown. "^ 

This interview seems to have resulted in a proposal to the car- 
dinal, offering him the option of throwing himself upon the clem- 
ency of the king, or of being arraigned before the parliament, not 
doubting that he would be only too ready to accept the first of 
these two alternatives. The cardinal, however, decided upon con- 
sulting his friends and advocates ; and among the latter were two 
of the ablest members of the Paris bar, the one, M. Target, robust 
of brain and body, pompous in speech, learned as intense study 
could render him, versed in the treasures of literature, fiery, im- 
petuous, an athlete redoubtable to all,^who, as member of the 
National Assembly, subsequently busied himself a good deal in 
framing the constitution, and was in after years applied to to under- 
take the defence of Louis XVI. himself — a duty which he declined 
on the plea that he was getting old ; the other, M. Tronchet, who, 
though ten years older than Target, did undertake to defend the 
king, although he knew he was engaging in a hopeless cause — 
Tronchet, whose natural phlegm disposed him to listen with at- 
tention, and whom a healthy judgment directed aright even in the 
most difficult matters.^ The cardinal's friends were all of them 
in favour of the parliament ; while his advocates were divided 
in opinion. Nevertheless, by the parliameht he decided he would 
be judged, and made known his election to the king in the following 
terms : 

" Sire, — I respectfully thank your majesty for the alternative 
you have been pleased to offer me. I have no hesitation in pre- 
ferring the parliament, as affording me the surest way of unmask- 
ing the intrigue of which I am the victim, and of proving my 
innocence before the world." ^ 

On receiving this reply, and exactly three weeks after the 
cardinal's arrest, the king issued his royal letters patent, addressed 

' Unpublished autograph letter of Louis XVI. in the collection of M. 
Feuillet de Conches. 

=" "Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 b, 
1838," vol. ii. p. 51. 

3 Ibid., vol. ii. p. 49. 

;* •' M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 127. 



THE CARDINAL TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED BY THE POPE. 215 

to the Parliament of Paris, formally apprising it of the great fraud 
that had been committed in the queen's name, and of the arrest of 
the supposed authors of it, and requiring the parliament to in- 
vestigate and judge the affair. The cardinal having selected the 
parliament as the tribunal before which he desired to be arraigned, 
now protested, in his character of bishop and prince of the holy 
Eoman Church, in a somewhat mild way, against the competency 
of the judges he had himself chosen, and humbly besought the 
parliament that he might be tried by an ecclesiastical tribunal, 
composed of his peers or brethren in the episcopacy, in accordance 
with the recognised rights and privileges of the Catholic Church. 
This request being refused, the cardinal had_ no option but to 
accept the tribunal named by the king. On the pope hearing of 
this, he summoned a consistory, which unanimously declared that 
the Cardinal de Eohan had acted contrary to his dignity as a 
member of the sacred college in recognizing the authority of the 
parliament, and at once directed his ecclesiastical suspension for a 
period of six months, at the end of which time, in the event of his 
persisting in his course, he was to be struck off the list of 
cardinals.^ In this dilemma, the Abbe Lemoine was despatched to 
Rome by the cardinal's friends, and succeeded in proving to the 
pope that the Prince de Rohan had made the protests which his 
dignity required, though without avail, and that he only accepted 
a secular tribunal because he was compelled to subscribe to the 
will of the king. The interdict was thereupon removed, and the 
cardinal reinstated in all his functions. 

While these formalities were being discussed, and the affair still 
partook of the character of a political contest between the ad- 
herents and friends of the house of Rohan united with the enemies 
of Marie-Antoinette on the one hand, and the court and govern- 
ment and partizans of the crown on the other ;— while people were 
eagerly devouring the statements circulated on behalf of the 
accused, and were now blaming, now seeking to exculpate the 
cardinal, and were either attacking or sympathising with Madame 
de la Motte, and ridiculing Cagliostro, — an individual whom no 
one was particularly regarding, was silently, but none the lesf» 

^ " M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 138, et seq. 



216 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

earnestly, labouring to overthrow the cold calculations of political 
animosity, and dissolve all those dreams of private vengeance of 
which the Prince de Rohan was the object. This was the Abbe 
Georgel, the cardinal's vicar-general, who had taken upon himself 
the task of disentangling the threads of this complicated affair. 
With the sanction of the grand almoner, he went first of all to the 
jewellers, and arranged with them that they should receive pay- 
ment for the Necklace in full, with all interest then due or that 
might hereafter accrue, and he gave them as security an assign- 
ment under the cardinal's hand, of the revenues of the Abbey of 
St. Waast, to the amount of three hundred thousand livres per 
annum. Thus this able man of business, by a single wrench, so to 
speak, drew out the most envenomed shaft, converting the 
jewellers from enemies, if not into friends, at any rate into very 
harmless antagonists. The cardinal's other creditors, whose claims 
amounted to nearly two millions of livres, on hearing of this 
assignment, became clamorous, and had also to be successfully 
arranged with.^ 

The abbe directed his attention to tbe state prosecution, in 
order to see whether it could not be diverted from the cardinal, 
the actual victim of the fraud, to the countess and her confederates, 
the perpetrators of it. Night and day, with the pertinacity of the 
true Jesuit, did the Abbe Georgel pursue his plan ; now visiting 
the Bastille and interrogating the cardinal next examining his 
friends, his visitors, and his domestics, and then again the different 
individuals to whom these referred him, and taking notes of every 
scrap of information he obtained. For many weeks his industry 
seemed to yield him no result, for as yet he was without anything 
like a positive clue. At length, from hints given him by the Abbe 
de Juncker, he tracked out Father Loth, one of the countess's 
minor instruments, and so far privy to, if not an actual accomplice 
in, her misdeeds as to judge it prudent on his part to keep entirely 
in the background until the Necklace inquiry was brought to a 
close.^ For a long time he was a most unwilling witness, but 
eventually the Abbe Georgel skilfully extracted from him all that 

^ "M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 143. 
= Ibid., vol. ii. p. 145. 



CAPTUEB OP THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN. 217 

he knew, and learned for the first time the names of Mademoiselle 
d'Oliva and of Retaux de Villette, and the rdles they had been en- 
gaged to play. The announcement of this discovery demolished 
in a moment the subtle political intrigue, the object of which had 
been to send the Cardinal de Rohan to the scaffold. 

Encouraged by this stroke of good fortune, the abbe proceeded to 
track the fugitives, for Mademoiselle d'Oliva, and Retaux de 
Villette, had both turned their backs upon Paris soon after the 
countess's arrest. Through the good offices of the Count de Yer- 
gennes, who prevailed on the king to consent to a demand being made 
in his name, for the surrender of the "jolie demoiselle" of the Palais 
Royal she was arrested at Brussels on the 1 6th of October in the 
middle of the night by the sub-lieutenant of police, three civic offi- 
cers, a greffier, and some half-dozen of the town guard — rather a for- 
midable force to take an unprotected female of four-and-twenty into 
custody. It is supposed to have been owing to the exertions of Marie- 
Antoinette's sister, the Duchess of Saxe-Teschen, then gouvernante 
of the Austrian Netherlands, that the Demoiselle d'Oliva and her 
lover, a certain M. de Beausire, formerly attached to the household 
of the Count d'Artois, were routed out. In a letter of the queen's, 
written to her sister, she says, " Your government, I am certain, 
will second me in searching for the woman who played the part in 
the garden scene, and who has taken refuge with you."^ D'Oliva 
was at once brought to Paris, and lodged in the Bastille. She, 
however, knew nothing beyond what related to the nocturnal scene 
in the park of Versailles, when she had been tricked out to play 
the part of queen. 

Yet what Mademoiselle d'Oliva did know she told with frank- 
ness and with an air of perfect truth. A memorial, ostensibly on 
her behalf, was brought out by the indefatigable abbe, containing 
the announcement of the important fact, now proved beyond a 
doubt, that it was the humble individual now in custody, and not 
the Queen .of France, who took part in the famous interview which 
had given rise to so much scandal. The story was so clear, the 
incident so fully explained, that the malice of ten thousand 

^ " Correspond ance In^dite de Marie- Antoinette," par Comte P. Vogt 
d'Hunolstein, p. 133. It should be mentioned that the majority of the 
letters in this collection are considered to be of doubtful authenticity. 



218 THS STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

tongues was in a Tnoment deprived of its nutriment, and the great 
figure of Marie-Antoinette was suddenly withdrawn from the scene 
— ^too late, alas ! for her subsequent reputation, — while the inno- 
cence of the cardinal was everywhere beginning to be felt. 

Before D'Oliva's memorial made its appearance, however, and in- 
deed, before the counterfeit queen's capture, Madame de la Motte 
had been engaged in furnishing her counsel with the materials for 
a memorial on her own behalf, which was made public early in 
November, when, in all probability, she had not heard of D'Oliva's 
arrest. This formed number one of that series of lying 
" Memoires " issued by the countess, which, in their endeavour to 
explain away certain new evidence that had come to light, contra- 
dicted former statements made by her, contradicted each other, and 
at times contradicted themselves. The countess avers that so 
great was the excitement on the occasion of the issue of her first 
memorial, that M. Doillot, her advocate, was obliged to have a 
guard at his house during the distribution of the copies, six 
thousand of which were sold in the course of a day or two.^ 

The countess, who had been in the Bastille for several months, 
feeling by no means dissatisfied with the turn her case was 
apparently taking, and contenting herself with denying all know- 
ledge of the Necklace, experienced a certain degree of disquiet on 
learning of the arrest of Mademoiselle d'OKva ; still, her fertile 
brain was soon at work to concoct some kind of exp]anation of the 
circumstances to which this new witness might be expected to de- 
pose. Besides, if it came to the worst, could she not fall back 
upon her system of general denial ? and was not D'Oliva a person 
of notoriously bad character, whose word would weigh as nothing 
against that of a descendant of the house of Yalois ? It must have 
been about this time that she would have also heard from her 
counsel of the rumours afloat respecting the depositions which 
Carbonni^res, intendant of the cardinal's household, had procured 
in England from the jewellers Gray and Jefferys, and have seen 
how necessary it was that the more complete story which she would 
now be constrained to tell should fit in all its parts with this new 
and unexpected evidence. It was more than ever requisite that 

' " Life ot the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 426. 



FERTILE BRAIN AT WORK. 2l9 

she should be wakeful, since she had heard, like the rest of the 
world, that the prosecution would be a contest between the queen 
and the Baron de Breteuil on the one hand, and the Prince de 
Rohan and his powerful partisans on the other; and there are 
strong reasons for believing that the home secretary and other 
enemies of the cardinal had insinuated to her, through various 
channels, that if she could only produce good evidence against the 
grand almoner, no other victim would be required. If we can be- 
lieve her own statement, that " mercenary hireling," as she calls 
him. Commissary Chenon, " made use of every argument to ex- 
asperate me against the cardinal," and wound up by saying, " He 
indeed may lay all manner of things to your charge, but make 
yourself easy, we shall take care to saddle him with everything." 



220 THE STOBY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXIX. 

1786. Jan. 

the trial i examination op the accused. 

At length, after the law had exhausted its customary period of 
delay, the examination of the accused commenced. The Cardinal 
de Rohan was first questioned, and told his story much the same 
as the reader has already gathered it from the preceding pages. 
Mademoiselle d'Oliva was next examined, and simply confirmed all 
that she had stated in her published memorial, from which we have 
quoted the chief passages. Pecuniary embarrassment, she said, 
was the sole reason of her leaving Paris within a few weeks of the 
time that Madame de la Motte was arrested, for it was then that 
her creditors began to press her for payment of their claims. She 
went to Brussels by the recommendation of a person who lived in 
the same house that she did, and whom she knew to be a native of 
that place. It was now the countess's turn, for as yet Retaux de 
Villette had proved more than a match for 'the sleuth-hounds of 
the Abb6 Georgel, and was still skulking in some safe retreat. As 
for Cagliostro, his examination was to be deferred until after the 
countess's had been brought to a close. 

Madame de la Motte commenced by detailing the chief incidents 
in her career, from the time she was taken notice of by the Mar- 
chioness de Boulainvilliers until the moment of her first introduc- 
tion to the Cardinal de Rohan, with something like a regard for 
truth. When questioned respecting her pretended intimacy with the 
queen, she said she had not the honour of being known to her, and 
denied ever having represented that she had access to her ; averred 
that she had never shown any letters purporting to be from her 
majesty ; that she had never been honoured with letters from her, 
and consequently could not have shown any such letters. 

With regard to Mademoiselle d'Oliva, the countess stated that all 
she knew of her arose from casually meeting her in the Palais Royal, 



THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE EXAMINED. 221 

when she learnt from her that her husband, who was a friend of 
Monsieur de Choiseul, had left her, and gone to America. Com- 
passionating her lonely condition, and finding her to be, to all 
appearances, a well-conducted young person, she had asked her to 
her hoiTse, " and had taken her on one occasion to Versailles, where 
she stayed with her for three days." When asked if she had not 
told D'Oliva that she was a lady of the court, on terms of close 
intimacy with the queen, by whom she was charged to find a person 
who would render her majesty some service, for which a reward of 
fifteen thousand francs would be given, she ridiculed the entire 
affair. She maintained it to be an invention on the part of the 
cardinal and Father Loth, who both knew of the unpleasantness 
that had arisen between her husband and herself with regard to 
the woman D'Oliva, whom she afterwards found by her behaviour 
to be anything but the respectable person she represented herself, 
being, in fact, a common courtesan who had been receiving the visits 
of Count de la Motte for some time past. She admitted that 
D'Oliva walked in the park of Versailles with her husband and 
Villette, on some evening in July of the year 1784, while she was 
promenading with the Cardinal de Rohan, but she utterly denied 
the whole story of dressing her up to personate the queen, and then 
conducting her to the park and instructing her what she was to say 
on being addressed by a great personage to whom she was to hand 
a letter and a rose. The countess protested that she felt highly 
indignant at the mere suggestion of these " numerous falsehoods," 
these " horrible reports ; " that " the entire thing was most absurd, 
and nothing but a foolish and incredible fable, most wretchedly 
concocted by its author, the Prince de Rohan." She said, of course 
it was false that she had ever told D'Oliva that the queen was 
pleased at the way in which she had acquitted herself, or that she 
had read a letter to her, purporting to be from the queen, saying the 
same thing ; and as for having given D'Oliva one thousand or three 
thousand livres, or any money whatever, after this affair, she had 
certainly done nothing of the kind. 

When asked if she had obtained from the Cardinal de Rohan two 
sums of 50,000 livres and 100,000 livres, in the months of August 
and November, 1784, in the queen's name, she simply ridiculed the 
suggestion, and pertinently asked, was it likely the cardinal would 



222 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

have been so mad as to have handed over to her such considerable 
amounts as these without receiving orders perfectly well known to 
have come from the queen, or, at any rate, without taking some kind 
of acknowledgment from her for them ? 

On being questioned with respect to the Necklace, the countess 
denied having had anything whatever to do with its purchase. 
She said she only saw the jew^ellers once before it was sold to the 
cardinal, on which occasion she peremptorily declined meddling in 
the affair. When asked if she had carried or had shown to the 
cardinal a letter purporting to be from the queen, wherein the 
queen expressed a wish to possess the Necklace, she ingeniously 
observed, that if it were intended to be suggested that she had been 
the bearer of any such letter as that alluded to, she desired the 
letter might be produced, for it was the cardinal's duty to have 
preserved a document of such importance. She admitted having 
casually spoken to the cardinal about the Necklace the day 
after the jewellers had shown it to her, but the cardinal appeared 
to pay no attention to what she said, although he afterwards sent 
to her for the jewellers' address. She certainly showed his note 
to Bohmer and Bassenge, but never said or hinted to them that 
he was acting on behalf of the queen, whose name was never once 
mentioned. With regard to the actual purchase of the Necklace 
she knew positively nothing until several days afterwards, when 
the cardinal told her that he had bought it for the queen. 

As to the contract, the countess declared it had not been given 
to her to show to the queen, and consequently she could not have 
returned it to the cardinal " approved " and signed. When the 
contract was first shown to her she immediately recognised the 
body of it as being in the cardinal's handwriting, but she did not 
know the writing of the signature : she positively denied having 
written it herself, or that it had been signed by any person she 
knew.^ 

In reply to further questions, Madame de la Motte stated that 
she did not know when the Necklace was handed over, and could 

^ In the French State paper office a minute description is preserved of 
the documents, put in on behalf of the prosecution in the "Proems du 
CoUier." An epitome of this will be found in the appendix to the present 
volume. 



THE COUNTESS PRETENDS SHE ACTED FOR THE CARDINAL. 223 

not say whether she saw the cardinal at Versailles on the 1st of 
February, 1785, although she saw him most days when he was 
there. She had no hesitation in declaring the story about the 
cardinal bringing the Necklace to her house, and the casket being 
handed over to a person who came with a note from the queen, to 
be absolutely false from beginning to end. The countess indig- 
nantly denied ever having had the Necklace in her possession, or 
having had it taken to pieces ; but, knowing well enough that 
there was evidence forthcoming of her and her husband having 
sold some of the diamonds forming part of it, she endeavoured to 
make her admission fit, as it were, with the evidence she thought 
likely to be brought forward. She maintained, however, that she 
was merely acting as agent for the cardinal, who, she said, sent her 
first of all twenty-two diamonds in a little box, with a note bidding 
her sell them as soon as she could. Subsequently he sent her a 
second box, containing a number of small diamonds which she was 
likewise to dispose of. The first parcel of diamonds Villette, she 
said, endeavoured to sell, but was unsuccessful, and they were 
eventually sold to the jeweller Paris for fifteen thousand livres, by 
recommendation of Monsieur Filleul,^ advocate of Bar-sur-Aube, 
and this amount she duly remitted to the cardinal, who afterwards 
sent her sixteen other diamonds, which she sold to the same person 
for sixteen thousand livres, and forwarded the amount to the 
cardinal in the early part of May. The small diamonds, she said, 
she sold to Regnier, together with one of larger size which the 
cardinal had given her, for the sum of five thousand five hundred 
and forty francs. The two diamond rings which, it will be re- 
membered, were set by Regnier, were set, she said, for the cardinal, 
and she asserted the same with respect to a honhonniere which 
Regnier had encircled with diamonds for the count. 

During the same month, while the Cardinal de Rohan was at 
Saverne, she said, one Carbonnieres, a member of the cardinal's' 
household, came to her in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, at six 
o'clock in the morning, and inquired if it would be possible for her 
to undertake a journey to Saverne in four days' time, some urgent 
business which he had in hand preventing him from going himself. 

* This name occurs as Filliau in the written record of the proceedings, 
preserved in the National Archives. 



224 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

He had something of great value and importance to transmit to 
the cardinal, who, he knew, would be very much pleased with her 
if she but did what he asked. At the expiration of the four days, 
Carbonnieres, she said, brought her a large sealed packet, and lent 
her his walking-cane, and directed the coachman to proceed by 
the Porte St. Martin as far as Pantin, the first stage. On reach- 
ing Saverne she put up at an inn, and apprised the cardinal of her 
arrival, whereupon he sent over one of his own carriages to fetch 
her. Immediately she saw the cardinal she gave him the sealed 
packet, and he asked her to stay and dine with him, but as she 
was dressed in man's clothes she was obliged to decline. The 
cardinal, after thanking her for the trouble she had been at on his 
account, then made her a present of the honhonniere which Pegnier 
had mounted with diamonds for him. *' Open it," he said, " and 
you will find something." She did as directed, and saw it was full 
of unset diamonds. On leaving the cardinal intrusted her with a 
packet of letters for Carbonnieres, which, on her arrival at Paris, 
she duly forwarded to the Hotel de Strasbourg, together with the 
walking-cahe which had been lent" to her. 

At this point of her examination the countess essayed what she 
thought would prove a grand covp^ which, bewildering and 
astonishing her judges, would make her innocence apparent with 
due melodramatic effect. She stated that in the month of March 
of the year before she went, accompanied by her niece, a little girl 
of ten or twelve years of age, daughter of Madame de la Tour, to 
the Hotel de Strasbourg to meet that great, that extraordinary 
man, as the cardinal invariably called him, the Count de Cagliostro, 
whom she had seen at Strasbourg four years previously, and who 
was on the present occasion to exhibit some of his marvellous per- 
formances. She and her niece were conducted to the cardinal's 
sleeping apartment, which was lighted up with twenty or thirty 
candles, when Count Cagliostro, calling her niece to him, took her 
upon his knee, and made her promise never to reveal to any one 
what she was about to see. He then dressed her out with 
a blue, green, and black ribbon, and also a white ribbon, to 
which was attached a cross and a star, and put on her a white 
apron covered over with different orders, and ornamented with 
beautiful silver lace. He next placed bis naked sword upon her 



MORE INCANTATION SCENES. 225 

head, and pronounced these words : "I command thee, in the 
name of the Great Cofte and of the angels Michael and Raphael 
to show me what I shall presently tell thee ; " and, taking her 
niece by the hand, he led her behind a screen where there was a 
table and a bottle of very clear water, on which he made her place 
her hand. The count then passed to the other side of the screen, 
where Madame de la Motte and the cardinal were seated, and 
commanded them to keep strict silence. He then pronounced 
certain words, of the meaning of which she understood nothing — 
but which the cardinal told her were to drive away the evil spirit 
— and said to her niece : " Say, * I command thee to make me see 
all that I desire.' Strike ! What dost thou see ? Hold thy hand 
always upon the bottle. What dost thou see 1" " Nothing, 
monsieur." "Strike again. Strike! strike! What dost thou 
see ? Dost thou not see a woman dressed in white, with a long 
fair face ? " " Yes, monsieur." " Who is it ? Dost thou not see 
the queen? Dost thou know her?" "Yes, monsieur; it is the 
queen." " Say again, * In the name of the Great Cofte I command 
thee to show me all that I shall desire.' Strike ! What dost thou 
see, little one ? Seest thou not an angel on thy right, who turns 
towards thee as though to embrace thee? Seest thou?" "Yes, 
monsieur." " Ah well ! embrace him !" 

Some days afterwards the Count de Cagliostro, who was not 
satisfied with this seance, at which all had not been made visible 
that he desired, directed that her niece should be dressed entirely 
in white, with her hair hanging loosely down, when he recom- 
menced the same ceremony. The cardinal, on this occasion, forced 
her to go behind the screen, and Cagliostro made her and her 
niece go upon their knees, after which he said to the latter : " I 
ordain thee, &c. What seest thou, little one ? Look at the point 
of my sword. Dost thou not see some one kneeling ? Who is it ? 
Name them!" "It is my lord cardinal and my aunt." "What 
does my lord do ? " " He takes a crown of six livres from a snuff- 
box which you hold in your hand." " What further does he do ? " 
" He takes a crown of three livres out of the same box." " What 
more dost thou see at the point of my sword ? Dost thou not see 
a magnificent palace and gardens ? " "Yes, monsieur." "Whom, 
dost thou see there ?" " No one, monsieur." " Look again ; look 

p 



226 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

well." " I see nothing, monsieur." Then Cagliostro, finding that 
she saw nothing, said to the cardinal : " She is too old, she is not 
pure. I must have another child." To which the cardinal re- 
marked : "I understand, one of those you know well." 

Eight days afterwards, Cagliostro went through a similar per- 
formance with two young children by turns, and in the following 
month there was another seance at the cardinal's h6tel, when Cag- 
liostro directed a table to be taken to one end of the saloon, and a 
large number of lighted candles to be placed upon it. He then 
laid his naked sword, crossing it with a poignard, in the centre, 
and arranged around it a quantity of medals, and the crosses of 
Jerusalem and St. Andrew, and commanded the countess to lay her 
hands upon them, and swear that she would never divulge what she 
was about to see and hear, and what was going to be proposed to 
her. Then, turning to the cardinal, Cagliostro said to him : 
" Prince, go now ; go now, prince." They spoke together in a low 
tone, and the cardinal went to his secretary, which stood by the 
side of his cabinet, and brought from it a rather large oval-shaped 
box of white wood, whereupon Cagliostro said to him : " There is 
still another ; bring it forth." On opening these boxes they were 
both found to be full of diamonds, and the cardinal then said to 
her : " Will your husband go to England if I send him ? I will 
give him two thousand crowns, which he -can place with some 
banker here for a draft upon London." Whereupon she asked the 
cardinal the name of this banker and his address, to which he re- 
plied : "It is Bergaud (Perregaux), Rue du Sentier ; he is my 
ordinary banker. Here, take the diamonds ; I will settle the price. 
Impress upon your husband on no account to sell them without 
first of all having them set, and tell him he must not bring any 
unset ones back with him." 

The count went to England as the cardinal had suggested, and 
shortly afterwards the cardinal said to her, *' Write to your husband 
to send me what money he has received, for I have some pressing 
payments to make. You remember seeing a lady with me during 
Holy week. I have promised her five hundred thousand livres. 
She is a German, and is about to marry a gentleman of Versailles 
so as to legitimatise a child of which I am the father." On being 
written to, her husband hastened home again, bringing with him 



CORROBORATIVE EVIDENCE REQUIRED. 227 

drafts upon Bergaud (Perregaux) for 121,000 livres, a medallion 
set with brilliants valued at one thousand crowns, a pair of giran- 
dole earrings valued at two thousand crowns, a diamond pin, and 
two large diamond rings, which, together with the drafts for one 
hundred and twenty-one thousand livres, were handed to the car- 
dinal, who returned the earrings, the pin, and the medallion, saying, 
" Here, keep these for your trouble." She told the cardinal that 
her husband had left behind him, in England, a quantity of dia- 
monds to be sold or else set, to which the cardinal replied, that he 
would prefer their being sold, but would see about this on his re- 
turn from Saverne.^ 

One can very well understand that on the conclusion of this 
marvellous narrative the sitting of the court was adjourned, and 
that on the following day Madame de la Motte was asked by her 
judges what witnesses she could bring forward in support of the 
extraordinary statements she had made. The countess replied 
there was only the servant who brought her the first box of dia- 
monds from the cardinal, as the note which accompanied it had 
been taken possession of by the Prince de Rohan with all his other 
letters to her, when she was confined under lock and key at the 
Palais-Cardinal. 

On being asked to account for the opulence which she was known 
to have displayed at the very time that she and her husband were, 
as she said, selling these diamonds on the cardinal's behalf, she re- 
capitulated various presents of money which she affirmed the 
cardinal had made her ; in addition to which, she said, she had re- 
ceived considerable gifts from the royal princes and princesses and 
from ministers of the crown. She stated that the diamonds which 
had been handed to her by the cardinal, including those remaining 
unsold in England, were of the value of three hundred and seventy- 
seven thousand livres ; nevertheless these did not comprise all 
that belonged to the Necklace sold to the queen, as the cardinal 
had given numbers away; and among them, some of the most 
beautiful to the lady, whom he wanted to marry to a gentleman 
attached to the suite of the Count de Provence, and others to the 
Countess de Cagliostro. After having expressly stated that the 
diamonds she and her husband disposed of did not comprise all 

^ "Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte." 



228 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

tliat belonged to the Necklace sold to the queen, Madame de la 
Motte maintained, in reply to questions asked her, that she neither 
knew nor suspected that any of the diamonds sold by them formed 
any portion of the Necklace in question; otherwise she would have 
had nothing to do with them, but would have felt it her duty to 
have warned the jewellers. When her husband, on seeing such a 
large number of unset stones, asked the cardinal where they came 
from, the prince replied that they belonged to an old set of jewels 
which he had no longer any occasion for now that he was getting 
old. When reminded that it was at this very time Laporte had 
spoken to her of the jewellers' inquietude at finding the Necklace 
was not worn by the queen, Madame de la Motte observed, that in 
this case the jewellers ought to have addressed themselves to the 
cardinal, particularly as she had warned them to be cautious. She 
denied that the cardinal had at any time expressed astonishment 
to her at her majesty not wearing the Necklace ; the reverse, 
indeed, was the fact, it was she who had expressed her astonish- 
ment to the cardinal. 

The countess, as a matter of course, denied having shown to the 
cardinal a letter purporting to be from the queen respecting the 
payment of the sam of seven hundred thousand livres to the 
jewellers ; she also denied having given thirty thousand livres to 
the cardinal to be handed over to them as - interest for the delay 
in the payment of the instalments. When asked what she borrowed 
from thirty to forty thousand livres from her notary for at this 
precise date, she was ready with her answer. It was to oblige the 
Marchioness de Crussol (the same who went to the guillotine with 
Madame Elisabeth, the king's sister, when these two poor ladies 
embraced each other at the foot of the scaffold), who came to her, 
and told her of the embarrassing position in which the ambassa- 
dress of Portugal was placed through having pledged her diamonds., 
which she was unable to redeem, and which would have been sold 
if Madame de la Motte had not furnished the money to take them 
out of pawn. 

She tried to persuade her judges that the cardinal had called 
upon her one morning, and complained to her that he had been 
duped in the affair of the Necklace ; that he had shown her a 
letter which he imagined had come from the queen, containing 



EXAMINATION OF CAGLIOSTRO. 229 

these words, " Send by the little countess^ a sum of money — the 
amount of which she could not recollect — for these unfortunates. 
I should be annoyed if they get into trouble." He suspected, how- 
ever, that the letter was not in the queen's handwriting, and that 
he had been made a dupe of. He paced up and down the room 
exclaiming, " Has she deceived me, this little countess 1 has she 
deceived me ? Oh, no ! I know Madame de Cagliostro too well ; 
she is not capable of this." 

On being asked if she knew a certain Dame de Courville, she 
replied that she had seen her with the cardinal in holy week the 
year previous, and that she knew her as a neighbour living within 
a few doors of her own house. She then proceeded to say that 
this was the same lady the cardinal desired to marry to a gentle- 
man belonging to the suite of the Count de Provence, and to whom 
he had promised to give five hundred thousand livres. When 
asked if she knew an individual named Augeard ^ or one Bette 
d'Etienville, or one Marsilly, a counsellor, she replied that she knew 
none of those persons. This concluded the countess's first exami- 
nation, which lasted from the 20th to the 26th of January, an 
entire week, and of which we have given all the chief points to en- 
able the reader to see the scope and power of Madame de la 
Motte's inventive faculties, and her proficiency in the arts of false- 
hood and deceit. 

It was now Cagliostro's turn to be examined. In answer to 
questions put to him, he said that he was a professor of medicine, 
of noble birth, and had travelled largely in Asia and Africa, as 
well as Europe, most of the chief cities of which he had visited. 
He was intimately acquainted with the Prince de Rohan, and since 
his (the count's) arrival in Paris, on the 30th of January in the 
past year, had been in the habit of seeing him generally three or 
four times a week. During this period the prince and his friends 
had occasionally dined with him at his house in the Rue Saint- 
Claude. The Necklace, respecting which so much had been said, 
was purchased before this time. He remembered the cardinal 
expressing certain doubts to him with regard to the genuineness of 

* Cagliostro's wife was known by this designation. 

= This was an alias of R6taux de Villette's. See post, p. 243. 



230 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the signature affixed to the contract, when he, sharing in them, 
advised the grand almoner to throw himself at the king's feet and 
confess everything that had transpired; but this he resolutely 
refused to do. 

With regard to the scene at the Hotel de Strasbourg, described 
by the Countess de la Motte, Cagliostro asserted this was merely 
an attempted experiment in animal magnetism, in which he was 
no great believer. The ribbons which the child was dressed out 
in were some that were lying about the apartment. He denied 
having placed his drawn sword on the child's head, and having 
made use of the words ascribed to him ; but admitted there was a 
bottle of clear water on which the child placed her hand. The 
affair was got up entirely at the instigation of Madame de la Motte, 
who displayed great anxiety respecting the forthcoming accouch- 
ment of some great lady, and he performed the experiment in the 
hope of calming her. The countess's story about the table with a 
large number of lighted candles upon it, and the naked sword and 
poignard, and the crosses of Jerusalem and St. Andrew, had not a 
particle of truth in it. He never placed Madame de la Motto's 
hand upon these things, and nothing of what she had described 
took place. The cardinal did not fetch any diamonds from his 
secretary, and, indeed, the whole affair was a pure piece of inven- 
tion. The cardinal had given him and his wife a few articles of 
jewellery as presents; all these things, and whatever other 
diamonds he possessed, had been seized by the police, and were 
still in their custody, and could be produced. The cardinal had 
never given the Countess de Cagliostro any diamonds forming part 
of the Necklace, nor any sum of money arising from the sale of 
the diamonds. He had never told the cardinal that his wife was 
intimate with the queen. She had never seen the queen, and was 
never once at Versailles, and could have had no correspondence 
with any one for the best of all reasons — she could not write.^ 

Cagliostro, in his examination, having stripped the countess's 
highly inventive narrative of its marvellous character, and exposed 
her falsehoods with respect to the diamonds, and having, more- 
over, previously stated in his memorial that he had cautioned the 

' *' Interrogatoire du Sieur de Cagliostro." 



THE COUNTESS ASSAILS THE LOW EMPIRIC. 231 

Cardinal de Rohan to be on his guard against Madame de la Motte, 
whom he stigmatized as a wretch, but that the cardinal would not 
believe him, the countess's indignation knew no bounds. Knowing 
the doubtful kind of reputation that attached to Cagliostro, and 
the peculiar nature of the relations commonly believed to subsist 
between him and the cardinal, who, it was thought, aided and 
abetted him in his endeavours to discover the philosopher's stone 

it was commonly reported that Cagliostro had prevailed on the 

cardinal to obtain possession of the Necklace, that he might ex- 
periment upon the diamonds and centriple their value ^ — the 
countess believed she could readily have diverted not merely sus- 
picion towards the " low empiric," as she was now in the habit of 
styling him, but have induced a firm conviction of his guilt. This 
had been her aim from the outset, as is evident from the insinu- 
ations in which she indulged in her memorial with regard to 
Cagliostro, whom she, or rather her counsel, introduces in the 
following grandiloquent style : 

"His name, his surname, his quality? he and the woman 

attached to his fortunes ?— The Count and so-called Countess de 

Cagliostro ! 

" His age ?— One of his valets said that he knew not the age of 

his master, but for himself he had been one hundred and fifty 

years in his service. As for the master, he sometimes gave three 

hundred years as his age, at other times he said he had assisted at 

Galilee at the marriage of Cana.^ 

" His coimtry ?— A Portugese Jew, or Greek, or Egyptian from 

Alexandria, who had brought with him to Europe the sorceries 

and allegories of the East. 

» *«Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette, la 
Cour et la Ville," vol. i. p. 592. 

^ As an example of Cagliostro's audacity in this respect, it may be men- 
tioned that, when first questioned by the lieutenant of poHce, who, in 
allusion to the Necklace affair, inquired if he had nothing to reproach him- 
self with— he coolly rephed, Nothing but the death of Pompey, and that 
even with regard to this he acted under the orders of Ptolemy. The 
lieutenant of police, not taken in the least aback, quietly observed they 
would refrain from going into any matters that occurred nnder his prede- 
cessors in office. See " Correspondance Secrete In^dite," etc., vol. n. 
p. 18. 



232 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" His habits and his religion? — Doctor of the cabalistic art; one 
of those extravagant members of the Rosy Cross who profess to 
raise the dead, and make them hold converse with the living — 
masters of all the sciences, skilled in the transmutation of baser 
metals into gold — beneficent spirits who attend the poor for 
nothing, and sell immortality to the rich. 

" His fortune ? in short, his means of supporting that luxurious 
ostentation which he has displayed before our eyes 1 — A sump- 
tuous hotel, elegant furniture, a well-supplied table, servants in all 
sorts of liveries ; and the court of this hotel always noisy with 
carriages, announcing in the midst of an intelligent nation vision- 
aries of every rank — in a word, Cagliostro, without inheriting any- 
thing, without purchasing anything, without selling anything, 
without acquiring anything, is possessed of all. Such is this man. 

" What are his great deeds ? — Many are known in the different 
courts of Europe, others are known to Madame Bohmer ;^ but let 
us confine ourselves to the third filtration of the Necklace, when it 
is needful to dispose the Count de la Motte to carry to a foreign 
country a considerable quantity of diamonds. This is the grand 
result furnished by the crucible of the operator."^ 

Cagliostro, it may be observed, was greatly excited on hearing 
of the arrest of his wife, and on afterwards learning that she was 
ill, became perfectly frantic. He pretended to believe that she 
was dead or at her last extremity, and threatened to kill himself 
if he were not permitted to see her, or she were not immediately 
set at liberty.^ 

* We have been unable to fathom the meaning of this allusion. All we 
have succeeded in discovering about Madame Bohmer is, that she was the 
" famous Demoiselle Renaud," but whence she derived her celebrity we are 
left in the dark. 

=* ** Premier M^moire pour la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 27, et seq. 

3 Autograph Report of the Marquis de Launay, governor of the Bastille, 
in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 



COUNTESS AND CARDINAL CONFRONTED TOGETHER. 233 



XXX. 

4% 1786. Feb. — March. 

the trial : the confrontations of the accused with each other 
and with the witnesses. 

The examinations having at length terminated, the confrontations 
of the accused with each other, and with the principal witnesses, 
now commenced. At the time these were going on, the accused, 
in accordance with custom, were deprived of the assistance of their 
counsel, who were not permitted to hold any intercourse whatever 
with them. Madame de la Motte and the cardinal were first con- 
fronted with each other. The countess describes being ushered 
into the hall of the Bastille, and the cardinal making his appear- 
ance shortly afterwards. The oaths having been administered, the 
opponents surveyed each other attentively ; though, says Madame, 
the cardinal, " pretending to amuse himself with his pencil, which 
he twirled about in his fingers, afiected not to regard me," and the 
duello of words at once began. And it was a mere duello of 
words, for the real points of the affair seem hardly to have been 
touched upon. At the outset the countess evidently thought she 
was getting much the best of the contest, for she observes in her 
" Life," that in her replies to the cardinal's interrogatories her 
expressions " were so strongly pointed, so pertinent and forcible, 
that every one present gave smiles of approbation."^ When 
questioned as to whence she derived the means for such an un- 
wonted display of opulence as she was known to have exhibited, 
she pointed to the cardinal, and gave the judges distinctly to 
understand that the relations subsisting between them were those 
of lover and mistress, and not benefactor and supplicant as had 
been commonly supposed ; hence the motive for the liberal gifts 
which she had received at the hands of the Prince de Rohan.^ 

' " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 19, 20. 
" Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte. 



234 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

As the contest went on, the cardinal, according to Madame's 
version, got some further awkward thrusts which touched him to 
the quick, and made him " look uneasy, and turn suddenly pale, 
and complain of a violent headache," which stayed the proceedings 
for a time. When these were resumed, the countess thought it 
necessary to object to what she styles some impropriety on the 
part of the cardinal — he put some pertinent question which it was 
not convenient for her to answer — whereupon a three hours' 
altercation ensued, during which the plethoric cardinal grew 
"red as fire," while madame, less excited "came off," she tells us, 
" with flying colours," the judges bestowing upon her " smiles of 
encouragement." Thus ended the first day's confrontation. 

The day following, the cardinal entered the hall quite chapfallen; 
" instead of his former fierce and haughty demeanour, his «yes 
appeared to ask pardon, and his countenance was sweet and en- 
gaging."^ His " mildness " gave the countess " fresh spirits, and 
increased her hopes," but a scene of wrangling began immediately 
— each accused the other of having had the Necklace, and of 
knowing what had become of it. " At this moment," remarks the 
countess, " I was not mistress of my temper, and loaded them all 
with reproaches," which brought down upon her a ^severe reproof 
from the judges, which did not, she confesses, "in the least tend 
to abate her violence."^ The second day's pnoceedings terminated, 
therefore, in a greater tempest than the first had done. 

If w^e believe what Madame de la Motte says, the cardinal, as the 
confrontations progressed, grew quite sentimental. Weak and 
foolish to the extreme point of folly w^e know the grand almoner to 
have been, still, now that the film was removed from his eyes, we 
can hardly credit that he acted the old dotard's part as the countess 
would have us believe. " He blew me over kisses," she says, " and 
when he discovered my eyes turned aside upon any other object, 
he played with his pencil to attract my notice." At another time, 
" he clasped his hands eagerly together, and lifting up his eyes to 
heaven, * Ah !' exclaimed he, ' how unhappy we are !' He even 
shed tears. "^ 

On a subsequent occasion the countess pretends that when they 

* " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 30. 
= Ibid., vol. ii. p. 41. 3 ibid., vol. ii. p. 40. 



MADAME WANTS TO CALL THE COUNT AS WITNESS. 235 

were by themselves at one end of the hall the cardinal approached 
her, took her by the hand, and led her to the fireplace, and that 
while they were there standing in an attitude of the most friendly re- 
gard, engaged in earnest conversation, she suddenly rang the bell, 
which brought in De Launay, governor of the Bastille, and two of 
his officers, who surprised them in the attitude above described. 
'* The lieutenant, De Losme," she observes, could scarce pardon me 
to see rae holding discourse with my executioner, ' a person,' said 
he, with indignation, ' that endeavours to prove you a thief ;' " and 
who did, indeed, in due course, not only prove her to be a thief, 
but procured her a felon's punishment. 

Although, according to her own account, these confrontations 
opened so triumphantly for her, the countess at their close had 
lost much of that confidence which her overweening vanity had 
led her to feel, and tried hard to prolong the proceedings by 
urging that application should be made to the king for permission 
for her to send a letter to her husband, " to engage him to come 
,in person to confront and disprove this preconcerted system of 
lying accusations which pretends that he has gone o& with a part 
of the necklace." As if the count could not have come forward, 
and done all this of his own accord, as he might possibly have 
been tempted to do had he not entertained a wholesome fear of the 
scourge and the branding-iron, and of being chained to the oar as 
a galley slave for the rest of his life. 

Judging from the countess's report of these confrontations, they 
w^ould seem to have been merely a series of wordy wranglings ; it 
is, however, quite certain that in the course of them many facts 
damaging to her in the last degree were brought to light. Her 
wretched poverty, up to the very moment when she touched the first 
fifty thousand livres of the cardinal's money, was proved beyond a 
doubt, as well as the comparative affluence which she displayed 
immediately afterwards. And the same with respect to the almost 
Oriental style of luxury in which the De la Mottes commenced to live 
immediately after the count had returned from England with the pro- 
ceeds arising from the sale of the diamonds to the jeweller Gray. 

The countess in her confrontation with Laporte — who had first 
mentioned the Necklace to her, and had introduced her to the 
crown jewellers — tried to wheedle him by such a shallow manoeuvre 



236 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

as thus addressing him : " I believe you to be an honest man, Mon- 
sieur Laporte. Forget for a moment that you have made any deposi- 
tion, and distinctly answer my questions." Laporte, however, stuck 
to his text, and nothing favourable to the countess could be extracted 
from hira.^ When she and the Baron de Planta, the cardinal's equerry, 
are brought face to face, he declines to swear black to be white, and 
persists in saying that he had himself carried to her the two several 
sums of fifty thousand livres and one hundred thousand livres, for 
which she had applied to the cardinal in the queen's name. "I swear 
in the presence of justice, and on my honour and my head," exclaimed 
the indignant baron, " that I myself gave you these amounts from 
the Cardinal de Rohan to be remitted to the queen ; "^ whereupon 
madame pronounces him to be mad, and in proof of her assertion 
recounts, with evident unction, the particulars of an attempted in- 
delicate assault upon her by the baron in the month of October, 
1784.^ Regnier, the goldsmith and jeweller who supplied the De 
la Mottes with a service of plate, &c., and received diamonds in 
discharge of his account, having given his version of his trans-, 
actions with the count and countess, the latter, following her usual 
system of denial, contradicts Regnier point blank, whereupon he 
exhibits the entries in his books made at the time. She then 
admits everything, and asks herself, with seeming astonishment, 
how it was possible in less than a year for her to have so far lost 
her memory.^ 

The countess, when confronted with Father Loth, loaded him 
with a shower of reproaches. " You bad man," exclaimed she, " it 
/is you who have led my husband astray ; you have introduced him 
/ to disreputable women. You have persuaded him to live on bad 
terms with me. You have robbed me."° Grenier, the goldsmith 
and money-lender, had deposed that Madame de la Motte had 
ordered of him two superb robes of Lyons silk, saying she intended 
making a present of them to the queen ; in reply to which he had 
told her point blank that it was not likely she would dare to take 

' " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 55. 
= *' M^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abbd Georgel, vol. ii. p. 185. 
•■ Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les t^moins. 

4 ' ' M6moire pour le Cardinal de Rohan, " p. 47. 

5 Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les t^moina. 



MADAME CONFRONTED WITH THE DEMOISELLE d'oLIVA. 237 

the liberty of making presents to her majesty. Whereupon the 
countess remarked, that there was no such ceremony as he sup- 
posed between relations ! She had, moreover, told him that she 
had reinstated the cardinal in the queen's good graces, and that her 
majesty dared refuse her nothing, and had also shown him a letter 
which she said had been written to her by the queen, but which she 
would not allow him to read.^ When brought face to face with 
Grenier, she exclaimed, " He has been in the Bastille for fifteen 
days, and when he comes out his first act is to depose against me 
out of revenge, because I once had him put outside my house, and 
because it was in relation to me that he was imprisoned."^ 

With regard to her confrontations with the Demoiselle d'Oliva, 
the countess complains that questions were put to the latter in such 
a form that she had only to answer yes or no, "I did not let this 
escape me," she remarks, " but desired Dupuis de Marce, one of 
the reporters of the case, appointed by the parliament, to suffer her 
to speak, and not to be her mouthpiece. He turned red, was stung 
with rage, and getting up like a demoniac, put an end to the sit- 
ting."* When it was resumed, and that portion of D'Oliva's de- 
claration was read which spoke of the letters, purporting to have 
been written by the queen, which the countess had shown her, 
Madame de la Motte cannot conceal her agitation. She makes 
signs to D'Oliva, winks her eyes at her, and finding that she takes 
no notice, keeps iiepeating the action. When charged with this, 
she replies in a furious tone of voice, " I make signs to you ? Yes, 
I make you a sign that you are a monster for having said such a 
thing." She then proceeds to charge D'Oliva with having behaved 
immodestly when on a visit to her at Charonne, says she was guilty 
of positive indecencies, that she was only a common courtezan, who 
had been for some time her husband's mistress, and who had 
usurped a title to which she had no claim. She next enlarged 
upon D'Oliva's affairs generally, and spoke of her pecuniary embar- 
rassments, and of the real and supposed disappointments she had 
experienced, with " audacity, arrogance, and fury;" for all of Avhich 
she was duly taken to task by D'Oliva's counsel in a new edition of 

^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est passe au Parlement," etc., pp. 75-6. 

^ Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte et du Cardinal. 

3 *' M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 235. 



238 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

his client's " Memoire." " Proud and vile woman," the memorial 
proceeds to say, " who caressed me when I could serve you, who 
disdained me when I exposed you, who hate me when I confound 
you, descend, descend from the supreme height of your genealogical 
tree, from whence you brave the law, impose upon its adminis- 
trators, and insult by turns your unfortunate co-accused."^ 

As for Cagliostro, on whom and on whose wife the countess had 
tried her utmost to shift a portion of her own guilt — out of revenge, 
we suppose, for the count having been the first to suggest to the 
cardinal that she had tricked him in the Necklace business — ^he is 
"this oracle who bewitched the cardinal's understanding," a low 
alchemist, a false prophet and profaner of the true religion, a 
mountebank p.nd a vagabond. To which Cagliostro pertinently re- 
plied, " Not always a false prophet, for had the Prince de Rohan 
taken my advice he would have seen through the artifices of the 
countess, and neither of us been where we are. To her numerous 
calumnies I will content myself with making a laconic reply, 
the same that was made by Pascal under parallel circumstances — 
a reply which politeness forbids me to make in the vulgar tongue, 
but which madame's counsel will translate for her, Mentiris im- 
pudent issime."^ The countess, not knowing the meaning of the 
phrase, imagined, correctly enough, that it was something exceed- 
ingly off'ensive, and to use her own language, " put an end to the 
scene by throwing a candlestick at the quack's head ! Cagliostro, 
enraged and foaming at the mouth, said to me, ' He will come, thy 
Villette ! he will come ! it is he that will speak !' "^ 

Referring to her confrontation with Madame Dubarry, the 
countess observes, " I cannot withstand the temptation of saying a 
few words concerning the part assigned to the ' queen dowager,' 
the immaculate Dubarry of monastic memory. She stated that I 
had been at her house to solicit her protection, and that I had left 
with her a memorial, signed ' Marie-Antoinette de France.' The 
fact is, I only went to her house out of curiosity in a good coach 
and four. Upon her signifying to me that she thought the branch 
of Yalois had been extinct, I gave her a memorial of my genealogy, 

^ " Memoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d'Oliva," p, 84. 

^ " Memoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro," p. 46. 

3 «« M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 238. 



ABBE GEORGEL's AUDACIOUS CHARGE. 239 

signed * Marie-Antoine d'Hozier de Serigny, Judge of the Nobility 
of France J When confronted with me she assumed an air of 
haiightiness and insolence, but I hastened to make her sensible of 
the distance between her birth and mine."^ This wrangling be- 
tween such a pair of demireps must have been highly amusing to 
all who chanced to^be witnesses of it. 

The cardinal, alluding to the confrontations in one of his 
memorials, says that Madame de la Motte generally either cried or 
went into convulsions at them, and that with her, audacity, gaiety, 
and tears succeeded each other by turns, according as she found 
herself capable of sustaining a part, or felt herself forced to suc- 
cumb to feelings of remorse and fear.^ 

During Lent of 1786, while the public excitement with reference 
to the Necklace trial was at its height, the Abbe Georgel, grand- 
vicar to the cardinal, whose office of grand almoner gave him 
spiritual jurisdiction over the royal chapel at Versailles, the 
Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, and the Assumption, caused to be 
printed and posted on the doors of the churches and sacristies 
dependent on the grand almonry, a charge, wherein he quoted the 
words of St. Paul to his disciple Timothy, exhorting him to blush 
neither for his captivity nor for his bonds. Copies of this charge 
were even posted in the royal chapel itself. 

The zeal of the Abbe Georgel here carried him a little too far. 
The king and queen were deeply irritated, and the Baron de 
Breteuil sent for the offender and spoke sharply to him on the 
subject. Instead of expressing regret, the faithful grand- vicar, in- 
toxicated with the success he had already met with in thwarting 
the enemies of the cardinal, his master, ventured to brave the 
minister of justice, replying to his remonstrances with firmness, 
and insisting on his right to exercise the powers which the cardinal 
had delegated to him. The minister, taken aback at so much 
assurance on the part of a mere abbe, required Georgel to furnish 
him with an explanation in writing. This the grand-vicar did in 
the following terms : 

" I had the honour to observe to you, sir, that monseigneur the 
cardinal not being under the bonds of a legal decree, enjoyed, even 

^ " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 241. 
2 " M^moire pour le Cardinal de Rohan," p. 50. 



240 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

where he was, his rights as citizen, bishop, and grand almoner in 
all their fulness; that a detention which had not been pronounced 
by law did not take away from a prisoner the right to exercise his 
civil and ecclesiastical functions ; that such an interdiction could 
be the consequence only of a decree of banishment or imprison- 
ment ; that the grand-vicars of monseigneur the Cardinal de 
Rohan, furnished with his powers, were legally av'^orized to 
exercise in his name and under his orders their respective func- 
tions ; and that our legal code was precise on the application of 
these principles. 

" You then tell me, sir, to send you all these details in writing. 
I obey the minister of the king, and shall await with the profound- 
est respect the orders of his majesty respecting the conduct which 
I ought to show in my quality of grand-vicar."^ 

This was another false step on the abbe's part, for the minister 
retaliated by a lettre-de-cachet, and the only order the grand-vicar 
received from his majesty was a command, dated March 10, 1786, 
to depart from Paris within four-and-twenty hours for Mortagne in 
Brittany. Thus at a most critical point in the proceedings insti- 
tuted against him was the cardinal suddenly deprived of the ser- 
vices of his able and energetic grand- vicar. 

On the 26th of March, owing to the exertions of Counsellor 
D'Eprem^nil, who pressed her case on the attention of the parlia- 
ment, the Countess de Cagliostro succeeded in regaining her liberty 
after upwards of seven months' confinement in the Bastille ; and 
about this time the women of Paris, who were great partisans of 
the cardinal's during the entire period of his imprisonment, took 
to wearing in their toilettes a combination of scarlet and straw- 
colour ribbons, jocularly entitled "cardinal on the straw" — meaning 
the cardinal in prison. Grand dames of fashion, too, at the Easter 
promenade of Longchamp, came out in straw bonnets with scarlet 
crowns, and trimmed with scarlet ribbon, which Mademoiselle 
Bertin, the queen's milliner — at this moment out of favour at 
court — had introduced under the name of chapeaux au Cardinal,^ 

^ Autograph Letter of the Abb6 Georgel, in the collection of M. Feuillet 
de Conches. 

= " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette, " 
etc., vol. ii. p. 31. 



THE FORGER VILLETTE IS UNEARTHED. 241 



XXXI. 

1786. April— May. 

arre^1''0p the forger villette — his examinations and 
confrontations. 

It is now that K^taux de Villette is unearthed with the Abbe 
Georgel's sleuth-hounds in full cry. Tracked from town to town, 
and from village to village, he is at length run down at Geneva, 
having, says one account, since the news of the Necklace affair, 
crossed the Swiss frontier, assumed various disguises, and turning 
his musical talents to account, acted the part of a vagrant musician, 
playing on his mandoline along the streets and highways to amuse 
the passers-by. One version of his capture represents him as hav- 
ing been trepanned in some low Geneva tavern, whilst overcome by 
drink, into enlisting in some phantom regiment, by which adroit 
manoeuvre he was enticed from off the " sacred republican soil," 
and carried away to Paris in triumph.^ Another version affirms 
that he had got mixed up in a local brawl at the time the abbe's 
emissaries pounced upon him, which is likely to be the truer 
statement of the two, as it is corroborated by his own account of 
his arrest. " A disturbance," he says, '' probably brought about by 
design, arose in the public streets between two Geneva watchmakers. 
A Frenchman, witness of the affair, interposed as peace-maker ; 
whereupon he was seized, together with the two disputants. ' Where 
do you come from?' was asked of him. *From Lyons.' 'Ah! 
there has been a great robbery recently committed there. What 
brought you to Geneva ? ' * Nothing.' * What is your name ? ' 
* Retaux de Villette.' *To prison with him ! ' A few days after- 
wards an inspector of police arrived from Paris, and carried off the 
prisoner to the Bastille."^ 

^ *' Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv, p. 57. 

= "Bequete pour le Sieur Marc-Antoine E-6taux de Villette," p. 5. See 
also "Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie -Antoinette," 
etc., vol. ii. p. 26. 

Q 



242 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

This must have been about the commencement of April, and no 
sooner did Villette find himself within the grip of the French police 
for the second time than he became quite chapfallen. On the road 
to Paris he was low-spirited to a degree, constantly speaking of 
himself as a lost man, as a victim about to be sacrificed. His distress, 
he tells us, was "aggravated by the jokes of the officers, in which 
they appeared to take a malicious pleasure."^ Now and then when 
cheered with wine he would chat confidentially with police-inspector 
Quidbr concerning his liaisons with Madame de la Motte, and would 
let fall scraps of information respecting the " helle demoiselle " of 
the Palais Royal, "the part she played at the midnight meeting at 
Versailles, and the influence which the countess exercised over the 
Prince de Rohan ; but with regard to everything that related to 
the Necklace, and the hillets-doux — " gilt edged," or bordered with 
" vignettes bleues," — and the forged signature to the contract with 
the jewellers, he preserved a discreet silence. 

When housed within the gloomy walls of the Bastille he became 
slightly, but only slightly, more communicative. He railed at his 
former mistress for having been the cause of his ruin ; described 
how he came to Paris to obtain a situation in the marshalsea, when, 
unfortunately for him, he fell into the snares of the siren, who, by 
pretending to have influence in high quarters, won his confidence, 
and by promising to do something better for him than his modest 
expectations led him to hope for, induced him to relinquish all idea 
of the post he was on the point of securing. Being frequently at 
her house, the countess employed him in drawing up and copying 
memorials setting forth the claims of the house of Valois, and ask- 
ing sometimes for restitution, and at others for pecuniary assistance; 
also memorials on behalf of individuals in whom Madame de la 
Motte took an interest, addressed either to the ministers, or to 
persons in high official positions, from whom places were solicited 
for the applicants. 

At his first examination Villette confessed absolutely nothing 
but what he was well aware was already known beyond the possi- 
bility of doubt. For instance, he admitted that he was acquainted 
with Mademoiselle d'Oliva, and that he accompanied the count and 

^ "Memoire Historique des Intrigues de la Coiir," etc., par R^taux de 
Villette, p. 60. 



THE FOEGER DENIES THE FORGED SIGNATURE. 243 

her to Versailles on a particular day, in the evening of which she was 
dressed out, and went with the countess to the park, where he and the 
count also proceeded. In substance he admitted the acting of the 
part of the queen by D'Oliva, who left the park wdth him and the 
count — the countess going off with the Cardinal de Rohan and the 
Baron de Planta. Villette scrupulously avoided everything like an 
admission of having written any letters for the countess. He 
denied having written a letter for D'Oliva to give to the cardinal, 
or one for the countess to read to D'Oliva as though it were from 
the queen. He believed D'Oliva was paid for the part she acted, 
but did not know the amount; he himself carried her three hundred 
livres on one occasion. When questioned respecting the Necklace, 
he replied that he knew absolutely nothing about it, nor of the 
negotiation for its purchase, nor of the letters said to have passed 
between the cardinal and the queen relative to this purchase. He 
confessed he was very frequently at Versailles, but could not tell 
w^hether he was there on the particular day the Necklace is said to 
have been delivered. At any rate he kne w nothing of the circum- 
stances connected with its delivery, was not the bearer of any letter 
respecting it, and certainly did not write any such letter. Was not 
aware of the Necklace being taken to pieces, though he admitted hav- 
ing had some diamonds given to him to sell Did not know the ob- 
ject of the count's journey to London; was not aware that he sold any 
diamonds there, or that he returned to Paris with letters of credit 
for a considerable amount. He admitted having assumed the name of 
Augeard, but only as a disguise for carrying on intrigues with women. 
Villette of course utterly denied all knowledge of the signature 
to the contract, but when asked if he thought the cardinal was 
able to discern whether the signature was genuine, he replied, that 
for his own part, without possessing the intelligence of the cardi- 
nal, had he been in his place he would not have been duped. 
During the time he was in familiar intercourse with the De la 
Mottes they appeared, he said, to live like persons of means, but 
he knew nothing of their sources of income. With respect to 
their opulence, although he had witnessed it, he had never shared 
it, save as a hanger-on — a guest who always had a seat at their 
table. With regard to the De la Mottes' motive for leaving 
Paris in August last, he understood from madame that her circum- 



244 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

stances were emban-assed. He admitted having received fonr 
thousand livres from madame, but only as a loan to enable him to 
visit Italy, where he had long desired to go ; and confessed to 
having slept part of the night in a cabriolet in the courtyard of 
the De la Motte hotel ere setting forth on his journey early on the 
following morning. Finally he stated that he had had no corre- 
spondence with the De la Mottes subsequent to his departure.^ 

Less than a month's reflection in the Bastille seems to have 
sharpened R^taux de Villette's memory on several essential points, 
for he writes a letter to the Count de Vergennes, in which he con- 
fesses everything except the receipt of the casket containing the 
Necklace ; this he persisted in denying to the last. In consequence 
of this letter he is again brought up for examination, when, the 
contract being produced and shown to him, he admits the words 
" approuve " and the signature to have been written by himself 
alone, not in imitation, however, of the queen's handwriting, but 
in his own ordinary hand.^ It was done, he said, at the request of 
Madame de la Motte, and on her assurance that it was to oblige the 
cardinal. He also confessed to having written, at the countess's dic- 
tation, all the billets-doux — gilt-edged, or bordered with vignettes hleues 
— which purported to have been addressed by the queen to the Prince 
de Rohan, and two letters in particular, in which the queen charged 
Madame de la Motte to ask the cardinal, in her name, first of all for 
sixty (fifty) thousand livres, and secondly for one hundred thousand 
livres, for an immediate payment the queen had to make.^ Villette 
positively denied having been the bearer of a billet purporting to have 
been written by the queen on the evening of the 2nd of February, 
and of receiving the casket containing the Necklace, and he com- 
placently referred to the striking difference that existed between 

^ Premier Interrogatoire de R^taux de Villette. 

^ If this statement was true it is difficult to conceive how the cardinal 
and the jewellers could have been deceived by the signature affixed to the 
contract, for there is not the slightest resemblance between Villette's bold 
upright style of penmanship as it appears in the numerous signatures 
appended to his depositions, etc. , and the cramped, slanting, handwriting of 
Marie- Antoinette. Even if the cardinal was unacquainted with the precise 
character of the queen's handwriting at this epoch, it is most improbable 
that Bohmer was in a like state of ignorance. 

3 " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 103. 



THE COUNTESS VARIES HER FORMER STATEMENT. 245 

the individual indicated by the Cardinal de Rohan and himself. 
The former, he remarked, had big black eyebrows, a pale thin face, 
and slender figure ; whereas his eyebrows were light, his face full 
and somewhat rubicund, and his figure inclined to be portly. 
With regard to the Necklace, he knew that it had been broken 
up, and that the diamonds intrusted to him to sell formed part of 
it, but he denied having had any of the diamonds given to him, 
or of having received money from Madame de la Motte for append- 
ing the forged signature to the contract. " It is true she has lent 
me money," observed he, " and I have kept a note of it, but 
whenever I have spoken to madame on the subject she has always. 
been polite enough to say that she did not wish the matter men- 
tioned." Finally, he expressed his firm belief that Cagliostro was 
entirely innocent of any complicity in the affair.^ 

The countess now undergoes a second examination at which she 
denies that Villette wrote any letters to the cardinal in the name 
of the queen. Having had time to reflect upon the weight of 
evidence against her, she now admits the truth of the statement 
with respect to the meeting between the cardinal and D'Oliva in 
the park of Versailles, but pretends the aff'air was a mere pleasan- 
try got up to quiet the restless cardinal. She still denied that 
she had applied to him for the several sums of fifty thousand and 
one hundred thousand livres, and maintained that she had never 
received these amounts. Denied, moreover, having ever seen the 
contract with the jewellers, and having got Villette to sign the 
same. When told that Villette had confessed, she simply replied 
that she could not conceive his motive for stating the signature to 
be his ; said she first knew of the signature being forged when the 
cardinal showed her part of a note written by the queen. Next 
day, after having again reflected, we find her adhering to her 
text, and contenting herself with remarking that Villette had been 
overpersuaded to say that he signed the document, and by her 
orders. 

At Retaux de Villette's first confrontation with the countess, 
after making the damaging admissions which he had done, he 
seems to have given way to feelings of remorse at having betrayed, 
as he says, " a woman whom I loved to adoration, and who had 

^ Deuxi^me Interrogatoire de Retaux de Villette. 



246 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

loaded me with benefits." He declared that De Launay, Dupiiis 
de Marce, Fremyn, the Count de Yergennes, and others, had 
forced him to assert, with the view of saving himself, that the 
countess alone had instigated him to write the false signature of the 
queen so as to cheat the cardinal, whereupon the sitting was imme- 
diately broken up without giving him time to finish what he was 
about to say.^ 

When confronted, however, wdth Madame de la Motte on a sub- 
sequent occasion, he tries his hardest, though in vain, to induce her 
to speak the truth. He told her that her denials could be no lon- 
ger accepted as proofs while he, the principal agent, and other 
witnesses were giving her the lie. " You will not see," he con- 
tinued, " that everybody accuses you, and that your voice neces- 
sarily loses its power. It is useless to deny that the cardinal, you, 
and I are culpable in this affair. You seek to destroy the avowal 
which I make of my own guilt. You say that I lie when I accuse 
myself of forgery. You ruin yourself in acting thus, and evidently 
do not understand your own interests." ^ 

Madame, however, conceived that she did, and was prepared 
with her rejoinder, which she made with all the tact and vehe- 
mence of the professional advocate. " The observations," remarked 
she, " that M. Villette has made are only made to frighten me. I 
fear nothing, and am perfectly calm. To all his remarks I persist 
in replying that I neither urged him to write the signature nor the 
* ci'pprouves^ nor any other similar writing purporting to come from 
the queen. If M. Villette is good enough to say that he has 
written the signature and the ^ ajoprouves,'' it is owing to the fear 
with which he has been inspired on being told that his ordinary 
handwriting bore so striking a resemblance to the signature appen- 
ded to the document, and that he would be certain to be condemned, 
by reason of this resemblance alone, to corporal punishment. He 
has been told that if he confessed to this, his punishment would 
be materially lightened. This is what has caused him to make the 

confession, which I maintain is false I repeat that I am in 

nowise guilty. I await with calmness the punishment that may be 
awarded me, and I ask no grace. 

^ *' M^moire Historique," etc., par Rdtaux de Villette, pp. 65-72. 
* Confrontations de Madame de la Motte avec R^taux de Villette. 



THE countess's PERORATION-. 247 

" With regard to M. le Cardinal, whom M. Villette has just said 
he believed to be as guilty as we two, I shall not charge myself 
with his defence, nor with that of any other person, not knowing 
whether he is guilty or no. If I were in possession of any secret 
that would tell against the cardinal in the Necklace affair I should 
not hide it, because for a long time past he has caused me much 
suffering. As for myself, I again say that I have no confession to 
make, as M. Villette pretends I have, for I am not guilty, and I 
am persuaded that he is no more guilty than myself. If I were 
guilty I would make a confession, in the hope that my punishment 
would be less grave. As it is, I could only make a false confession ; 
and although M. Villette tells me that every proof has been ob- 
tained against me, and that I have only my bare assertions to 
oppose to these, I repeat again that I leave my judges at liberty to 
find me guilty, still asserting that I am innocent and free from 
crime." ^ 

With this smart peroration of madame's the confrontations were 
brought to a close, and the accused were remanded back to their 
several quarters in the gloomy old fortress to await the next step 
which the kw would in due course take. The revelations of 
D'Oliva, and more particularly those of Villette, by utterly chang- 
ing the aspect of things, had sadly weakened the countess's confi- 
dence in her line of defence, and the hold which she believed she 
had on the sympathy of the public. To retain so much of the 
latter as was possible, she published a third memorial, or summary, 
as it was called — her second was simply a rejoinder to Cagliostro — 
made up, as was her custom, of an artful combination of ingenious 
fallacies well calculated to perplex, if not to delude, the under- 
standing. 

M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his collection of autographs, 
an extensive. MS. in the countess's handwriting, consisting of her 
observations upon the various " Memoires " issued on behalf of her 
co-accused, and of reports of what passed at her own examinations 
and confrontations. This was evidently prepared for the use of 
her advocate, M. Doillot, who drew up her memorials from materials 
she supplied him with, and whom it is quite certain, from the evi- 

^ " Sommaire pour la Comtesse de la Motte," pp. 17, 18. 



248 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

dence furnished by this MS., Madame de la Motte did not scruple 
to attempt to deceive, just as she tried to deceive her judges, and, 
indeed, every one else with whom she came in contact.^ 

*• Her foot on earth, her forehead in the skies, 
Things done relates, not done she feigns, 
And mingles truth with lies. " 

In neither of the countess's memorials does she seek in any way 
to implicate Marie- Antoinette, nor make the least claim to that in- 
timacy with royalty which she subsequently maintained in her 
" Memoires Justificatifs " with such wanton audacity, and again in 
her "Life, written by herself," but lays everything to the charge 
of the cardinal, fascinated, deluded, and overruled by Cagliostro. 
As a type of the depravity of the human heart when no moral laws 
restrain its licence, a book more astounding and impudent than 
" The Life of Jeanne de St. Remi de Valois, Countess de la 
Motte," — from which, in the course of our narrative, we have ex- 
tracted everything of the least importance wearing an air of truth 
— was, perhaps, never written. 

New memorials, however, were of no use now. Her game, which 
had been most audaciously played, was played out. People of 
every class turned against her. The queen and the cardinal were 
no longer victims to that prejudiced and hastily-formed opinion 
which, without waiting for the pleadings of the lawyers or the ver- 
dict of a jury, passes sentence beforehand. Alone and apart from 
even her fellow-prisoners, this powerful impostor stood detected as 
the liar, the swindler, the thief, the contriver of the plot, the 
single and crafty director of a complicated fraud. And the man 
who was the first to betray her, and " whose villany and diabolical 
machinations," to quote the countess's own words, had caused all 
this to come to light, had been one of her familiars — friends she 
could hardly be said to have had — a constant hanger-on at her 
house, an almost daily guest at her table, " who, by way of render- 
ing himself necessary," says the countess, " pretended that, as my 
husband and I were young people, it was requisite we should have 
some trusty person to superintend our domestics. He superin- 

^ See note, p. 164, vol. i. of "Lettres et Documents In6ditsde Louis XVL 
et Marie-Antoinette," par M. Feuillet de Conches. 



THE COUNTESS HAD NO FRIENDS. 249 

tended, and had the disposal of everything in the house, and when 
I went into the country he had all the keys, and the care of paying 
my servants."-^ Recalling all this to mind in her " Life," the 
countess heaps on Father Loth some of her choicest expletives — 
"serpent" and "viper" being the most favourite. He is, for in- 
stance, " the serpent that stung me to the heart ;" " the serpent 
that darted his envenomed sting against me ;" " the dangerous 
viper that stung the bosom that cherished it ;" " this disgrace to 
human nature ;" " this iniquitous monk, who embezzled my money 
and my watch ;" " this perjured and malignant monk ;" " this 
solitary savage ;" " this dexterous hypocrite ;" " this hypocritical, 
this notorious villain ;" " this monster /' " this profligate and 
abandoned wretch /' " this wretch who has violated every moral 
obligation."^ 

The countess's confederates had confessed themselves guilty, but 
there was this excuse for them — they were merely her tools and 
instruments. Villette, in his time of tribulation, might well pro- 
test that he was not that great friend and confidant of Madame de 
la Motte which he was represented to be, for, said he, "she had no 
friends, and her confidence never was bestowed absolutely on any one^ 
She merely instructed her instruments in what was necessary to 
the parts they had to perform, and kept the secret of the com- 
binations entirely to herself.^ D'Oliva had captivated the public 
by her ingenuous explanation of a stratagem which, it was evident 
to every one, she had had no share in conceiving or conducting to 
its issue, although she had taken a part in it. And as to the 
forger Villette, he had rendered so great a service to the law by his 
complete exposure of the crime which had been committed, and had 
so disarmed resentment by his apparent contrition, as to call forth 
towards himself a kind of latent pity, in which contempt and dis- 
gust were to some extent mingled. 

With regard to the countess, nothing seemed capable of sub- 
duing the wanton energy of this bold bad spirit. Confronted 
alternately with the cardinal, with the girl D'Oliva, with Cagliostro, 
and with Retaux de Villette, besides several minor witnesses, she 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 330, 

= Ibid. vol. ii. p. 329, et seq. 

3 "Requete pour le Sieur Marc-Aiitoine Retaux de Villette," p. 10. 



250 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

stood, as we have seen, face to face with them, unabashed against 
them all. At first she denied everything ; accused them of the 
very crimes she had herself committed ; charged them with invent- 
ing, conducting, and executing the fraud from first to last ; even 
swore that her two chief confederates, standing there as witnesses 
against her, had been suborned by the relations of the cardinal, 
and had formed a conspiracy to shift their own dishonour upon, 
her. She told her judges to remember that she was a Valois, de- 
scended from the princes who had formerly reigned over them. 
Perching herself on this imaginary pedestal, she seemed to forget 
that she was a prisoner on her trial before the country, and 
thundered her denunciations against her fellow-prisoners in the 
loudest key, every eye shrinking and quailing beneath her own. 
Her judges were for the moment amazed and overawed by an 
assurance which far surpassed anything hitherto seen in a court of 
justice, whilst the cardinal respectfully styled her " madame " when- 
ever he addressed her. 

Every time she was called upon to explain some circumstance 
with reference to which the statements of the rest of the accused 
tallied and directly contradicted her own assertions, those present 
glanced at one another expecting that she would be mute at last, 
and yield to the weight of evidence against her. But no ; her 
fertile invention, like that of Napoleon at Marengo, supplied her at 
a moment's warning with some new combination. When asked to 
explain the source whence she had derived the means of supporting 
her extravagant expenditure during her twelve months of display, 
she replied that she had met with princely benefactors. The 
Cardinal de Rohan had alone given her 203,720 livres. Observing 
the looks of incredulity with which this statement was received, to 
account for the cardinal's unheard-of liberality, she explained to 
her judges that relations of a very tender nature existed between 
her and the grand almoner.^ She asserted, moreover, that she 
had got up the scene with D'Oliva in the park of Versailles to re- 
venge herself upon the cardinal for an infidelity of which he had 
been guilty.^ Among her other " princely benefactors " she 
enumerated Madame, the Countess de Provence, who, she stated, 

^ Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte. 
^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 97. 



THE countess's ABUSE OF HER JUDGES. 251 

had given her 13,200 livres, while the Duke d'Orle'ans had given 
her 12,000 livres, the Duke and Duchess de Chartres 26,000, the 
Duke de Choiseul 12,000, the Duke de Penthievre 8,400, M. de 
Castries 3,000, and the controleur-g6neral 6,000. All these state- 
ments were of course false. For instance, the Countess de Pro- 
vence had only given her twelve or fifteen louis, and this immedi- 
ately after the fainting scene, we imagine ; the controleur-general 
had given her about fifty louis j and M. de Castries eight hundred, 
instead of three thousand livres. M. d'Ormesson, whose name 
she does not mention, said he had sent her a few louis hy the 
hands of the police; while, as regards the eight thousand four 
hundred livres which she pretended she had received from the 
Duke de Penthievre, the chief of his council, the Abbe de Noir, 
who happened to be present, rose up and indignantly declared the 
coimtess's assertion to be false.^ Being asked to explain what she 
had done with the 150,000 livres extorted from the Cardinal de 
Rohan in August and October, 1784, in the queen's name, Madame 
de la Motte calmly smiled, and with a look of offended dignity and 
wounded innocence, vowed that she had never so much as seen the 
money. 

As each damaging fact came to light the countess did not con- 
tent herself with launching tirades of abuse merely against the 
witnesses, "who swore," she tells us, "precisely what the cardinal's 
advocates pleased to put into their months." According to her 
own admissions, she on more than one occasion abused her judges 
to their faces,^ while behind their backs she heaped upon them 
every variety of vituperative epithet. Commissary Chenon was 
"a wretch and a c/mning dissembler ;" ^ Fremyn was her "invete- 
rate enemy ;"^ Dupuis de Marce was "bought over," was a 
" creature of the house of Rohan," was " a monster," " a sly and 
venemous serpent," "a perfidious miscreant," and "prevaricated 
to a scandalous oxcess."^ Both he and Fremyn were "dissemblers," 
both " would convict the innocent rather than hear the truth ; " 
" every ray of evidence which would have made in my favour was 

» " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 85. 

2 «' Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 31, 71. 

3 Ibid. vol. i. p. 408. -^ Ibid. vol. i. p. 449. 

s Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 18, 51, 77 ; and " M^moires Justificatifs." 



252 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

refracted and broken by the medium through which it passed;"-^ both 
had "the villany to alter and interpolate the records."^ She fur- 
ther accused the deputy procureur-g6neral and the judges of having 
" caballed against her ; " ^ maintained that even the registrar, Le 
Breton, was " in the cardinal's interest."^ So, too, was the 
governor of the Bastille, rigorous old De Launay, to whom she 
moreover applies the epithet of " this perfidious governor."^ 

While these examinations were proceeding, and when it was 
perfectly well known that Count de la Motte was residing in 
security on the other side of the Channel, an abundance of legal 
formalities were gone through to ensure his arrest, had -he only 
happened to have been within the jurisdiction of the Paris Parlia- 
ment. For instance, on the 15th of December, 1785, a writ of 
capture of the count's body was decreed, and on the 15th of the 
following January, Regnault, " huissier of our said court," was de- 
spatched to Bar-sur-Aube to execute the writ in question. On the 
13th of February it was ordered that the said Marc-Antoine- 
Nicolas de la Motte should be summoned that day se'nnight by 
public proclamation, to have law and justice done upon him, which 
summoning accordingly took place in the town of Bar-sur-Aube, 
and subsequently at Paris, " by Simonin, sole sworn crier of the 
king, provost and viscount of Paris, and huissier of the Chatelet 
of Paris, accompanied by Regnault, huissier of our said court. "^ 
Count de la Motte, however, failed to put in an appearance at 
either place. 

* " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 24, 27, 29. 

^ "M^moires Justificatif s, " p. 237. To have tampered with the records, 
would have been exceedingly difficult, as the reader will perceive by referring 
to the extract from the National Archives, given at p. 395 et seq. of the 
Appendix to this volume. 

3 " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ."i. p. 90. 

4 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 109. s Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 66, 67. 

^ Arret du Parlement. "Collection complete de tous .'es M^moires qui 
ont paru dans la fameuse Affaire du Collier," etc., p. 24. 



THE COXCIERGERIE. 253 



XXXII. 

1786. May 29, 30. 

the conciergerie. — before the court of parliament, grand 
chamber, and " tournelle." 

At eight o'clock on the night of the 29th of May, 1786, while the 
countess was quietly seated at supper, the gaoler of the Bastille 
burst into her room with the disagreeable intelligence that her 
business, "which looked a devilish bad affair indeed, was likely to 
be terminated ci la greve" (that is, by the gallows). "Hold you in 
readiness at eleven o'clock," said he, "for they will begin with you." 
At eleven, accordingly, she was conducted to the council hall, where, 
after being searched by the huissiers de la chaine, she was taken in 
a coach to the Conciergerie, that grim, grey stone building, at the 
river's brink, on the He de la Cite, whose time-worn, massive, conical- 
capped round towers frown disdainfully upon the crowd of hand- 
some modern buildings around, — the one unrestored specimen of 
mediaeval architecture of the least importance in all Paris.^ To this 
same dismal prison '»me six years subsequently, Marie-Antoinette 
herself was sent, q^ting it only when she went forth to die upon 
the scaffold. ^ 

" Eeleased from the Bastille," says Madame de la Motte, " Paris 
appeared to me superb, but our journey seemed extremely short. 
It was near midnight. All the front yard before the court of the 
Palais de Justice was illuminated, as well as the court itself; it was 
as light as da,y. The palace was amazingly crowded; all the guard 
were under arms. An officer came to give me his arm to alight 
from the carriage. I was conducted to a large hall, which they call 
the greffe, whither I was attended by four or five hundred persons. 
All the passages, the tables, every place was crowded. ... I 
listened with pleasure to a profusion of civil things that were said 

"" Thirj refers to its condition in the year 1867. It has since been re- 
novate (1. 



254 THE STORY OF THE DIA^IOND NECKLACE. 

to me by the surrounding multitude, many of whom expressed very 
warm and sincere wishes for my success, and seemed much pleased 
at the manner in which I returned their civilities. About two 
o'clock, finding myself fatigued, I expressed a desire to take some 
rest ; and after paying my respects to this numerous company, the 
keeper's wife conducted me to the apartment prepared for my re- 
ception."^ 

At six o'clock the Parliament, both Grand Chamber and Tour- 
nelle,^ began to assemble. The princes and princesses of the house 
of Conde, allied to that of the cardinal, and of the houses of Rohan, 
Soubise and Guemenee, had gone into mourning, and thus signifi- 
cantly attired, placed themselves in a line in the corridor along 
which the councillors of the Grand Chamber had to pass, so that 
they might salute them as they entered the hall.^ When they 
arrived, Madame de Marsan, pointing to the cardinal's assembled 
relatives, said to the councillors — " Gentlemen, you are about to 
judge the whole of us."^ Upwards of sisty judges took their seats. 
The sittings were long and numerous, as it was necessary to read 
over the reports of the previous proceedings. A master of requests, 
a friend of the cardinal's, took notes of all that the judges said while 
this was going on, and passed them to the cardinal's counsel, who 
found means of communicating with the prisoner, and of advising 
him as to the course he should pursue when under examination. 
The counsellor d'Epremenil too, a warm "^^'^ itisan of the grand 
almoner's, likewise apprised his friends of n^'^v'' particulars which 
it was important for them to be acquainted with.*^' 

The countess was in readiness, in the event of being summoned, 
by about half-past six o'clock. " It has been said," remarks she, 
" that I was tricked out and dressed ; but the truth is, I had plain 
cambric linen, a cambric cloak, and for a bonnet a half-undress 
gauze, without ribbons, and was even without powd^ • in my hair. 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 93, et seq. 
= The *' Tournelle " was the Chamber that had the judging of criminal 
matters. 

3 " M6moires de Marie- Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 290. 

4 Correspondance In6dite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de 
Boufflers (Paris 1875), p. 121. 

5 " M6moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abbd George!, vol. ii. pp. 170, 196. 



ENTER VILLETTE, HIS EYES EATHED IN TEAKS. *255 

Tlie gauze cap which I wore on my head very little squared with 
the ridiculous assertion that I was dressed. They began with poor 
Oliva,! who was delayed with her child. [She had given birth to 
an infant since her arrest.] The keeper's wife, to whom I expressed 
a desire to see her, brought her to my chamber, which was very 
near. I consoled the mother, but I gently reproved her for the 
wrongs she had done me in following so blindly the advice of her 
advocates relative to the supposed letter of the queen which she said 
I had shown her."^ 

The countess is mistaken in supposing that D'Oliva was the first 
to be interrogated. It was Villette who had that honour. He 
entered the hall and took his place on the sellette with " his eyes 
bathed in tears," and during his examination showed more good 
faith and repentance than he had heretofore done, avo\ying all his 
crimes without the slightest reserve. It was remarked, however, 
that for the first time he seemed anxious to accuse the cardinal, 
whom he had previously sought to shield, by maintaining that he 
had been the dupe of the falsehoods and intrigues of Madame de la 
Motte. Villette's examination was soon over, and between ten and 
eleven o'clock the keeper of the Conciergerie and his son cond acted 
the countess up "the little staircase," which all criminals were 
obliged to ascend. Fremyn, " the dissembler," then came forward 
and took her hand^ and led her to the hall where the judges were 
assembled. In this well-known apartment of the ancient Palais de 
Justice, where in the early days of the French monarchy the kings 
of the Capetian racd' were accustomed to keep their court, the 
Grand Chamber of the Paris Parliament had held its sittings for 
upv/ards of a century ; and here it was that, under the presidency 
of the king, the famous lits de justice were likewise held. At the 
present day the Court of Cassation, the supreme court of appeal in 
France in matters criminal as well as civil, holds its " solemn 
audiences" in this celebrated chamber, the interior of which, in 
this renovating, age, has not a single trace of its ancient mediaeval 
character rem? ining to it.^ 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p, 96. 
^ " Comptfj rendu de ce qui s'est passe au Parlement," etc., p. 114. 
3 " To-da; ," writes M. Berryer, in 1837, " when my fancy carries itself 
hack to fifty years or so ago" — the very date of the Necklace trial — " to.- 



256 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

" The appearance of the hall, crowded as it was in every part, 
was to me," remarks Madame de la Motte, " a most tremendous 
sight; it was an awful, an alarming crisis. It is here that, accused 
without guilt, I was tried without justice, and condemned without 
proof, the accusation against me being supported on the narrow 
foundation of false testimony, apparent even to my very judges as 
contradictory and replete with absurdity. Too soon I understood 
the ambiguous meaning of my counsel, who, in attempting to pre- 
pare me for the occasion, had spoken to me of the * sellette.^ I 
heard a number of voices tending to encourage me, and striving to 
inspire me with confidence. ' Must I then occupy this seat T ex- 
claimed I ; ' must I be forced into this sellette, formed only for the 
reception of the guilty V Agitated by the most heartrending sen- 
sations, I remained a long time in a most dreadful situation, my 

wards the Palais de Justice, I recognize neither the same antique structure, 
nor the same internal divisions, nor those innumerable jurisdictions of 
which it was the seat, nor that inconceivable flood of persons interested, 
whose tumultous waves were agitated every day for hours together, and 
more especially from noon until two o'clock. 

" Outside the edifice was a large staircase, crowded with shops piled one 
above the other, flanked by the offices of writers, starting from the angle 
of the handsome railings, on the side of the Pont-au-Change, extending to 
the circle of the old Cour du Mai, and serving as a girdle to the Sainte- 
Chapelle, a confused mass of steps and stalls ^pictured with such animation 
in the Lutrin of Boileau. Who does not recollect the inquiry made by the 
countryman of an avocat, laden with several bags of briefs, on catching sight 
of this grotesque staircase, ' Sir,' said he, 'will you be kind enough to tell 
me what that building is ? ' ' It is a mill, ' replied '■-he over- worked avocat. 
* Ah ! I guessed as much,' remarked the countryman . ' from seeing so many 
donkeys carrying their sacks to it. ' 

"Under the immense vaulted galleries, and also surrounding all the 
columns of the great hall, were more rows of shops fill ^d with merchandise 
of all kinds, which had caused the name Palais Marc/^and to be given to 
this temple of justice. The Parliament alone occupied seven large halls — 
the grand chamber, the tournelle, the three halls of inqut sts, and the halls 
of requests. The grand chamber, with its arched roof spri"nging from gilded 
brackets, was an austere-looking place. Perched above were two galleries I 
reserved for the accommodation of great personages, and wjl ich I have seen 
occupied, among others, by the Emperor Joseph II., the unfortunate I 
Gustavus, king of Sweden, and by the Count and Countess dii Nord, since 
Emperor and Empress of Kussia. " — Souvenirs de M. Berryer, ^ ol. ii. p. 25, 
et seq. 



THE COUNTESS BEFORE THE PARLIAMENT. 257 

knees knocking together, and my whole frame trembling with 
agitation, and feeling myself unable to articulate a single syllable. 
At length, but I scarce know how, I found myself seated, over- 
whelmed with shame at finding myself surrounded by such a 
number of judges, by such a crowd of spectators."^ 

Such is the account which the countess herself gives of this 
incident. A contemporary record of the proceedings states, how- 
ever, that she seated herself in the sellette with an impudent air, 
which she maintained throughout the two hours she was under 
examination, and indeed until she quitted this seat of shame.^ 
After she was sieated she heard, she says, "a general cry, which 
was re-echoed throughout the hall : ' Proceed, proceed, madame ; 
take courage !' This encouragement, from so many of my judges, 
supported my sinking spirits; their looks animated me, and by 
degrees I was in a condition to answer them with that consistency 
of truth and energetic fortitude which inrhocence alone inspires. 

" So great was the malice of Fremyn against me that he could 
not help exhibiting, even in the very face of my judges, a degree 
of rudeness and indelicacy which, upon such an occasion, in such a 
situation, but ill became him. This man came up to me rudely 
and desired me to take off my hood. I looked at him very atten- 
tively, and said, *Even before this august assembly you prove at 
this very moment how much you are my enemy.' The assembly 
applauded what I said, and remonstrated with an air of disappro- 
bation, * Oh ! why do you so? Let the lady wear her calash.' 

" The chief president, M. d'^Aligre, now read to me my first 
interrogatory, which was expressed in so very few words that my 
judges could not determine from my reply whether I was innocent 
or not. * I should wish,' I remarked, * that my judges would 
interrogate me upon those points which have relation to the 
Necklace ; to these I am particularly anxious to reply, that I may 
have an opportunity of demonstrating what I have already ad- 
vanced, what I have above a hundred times repeated, and what I 
have never swerved from.' The judges all exclaimed that I was 
right, and were unanimously agreed to make some additions to 
the first interrogatory, which did not mention a syllable of the 

^ ** Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 96-9. 
= *' Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 115, 

R 



2-38 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

leading point of accusation — the Diamond Necklace. 'The 
cardinal has stated/ said they, 'that he brought the Necklace him- 
self to your house at Versailles, and that he waited in an alcove 
till the arrival of a person who was to fetch it on the part of the 
queen ; that you insinuatq it was one of her majesty's pages ; that 
this man, as described by the cardinal, is very dark, has large 
black eyebrows, thin and tall, with large black eyes, his figure 
extremely slender. The cardinal observes also, that the alcove 
was about half open.' 

" ' Absurdities like these, gentlemen,' rejoined I, * raise my 
indignation, and I am convinced they will have a similar effect 
upon you.' I then pointed out the contradictions in the cardinal's 
assertions, explaining how, when he saw M. Villette at the con- 
frontation, he immediately said that he recollected his profile, and 
that he was the very same person to whom I gave the Necklace ; 
M. Villette being, in every respect, diametrically the reverse of the 
cardinal's description. I called the particular attention of my 
judges to this circumstance, as it showed them the kind of reliance 
they could place on the remainder of the cardinal's allegations. 
' Even if there drd come a man, as the cardinal pretends,' I went 
on to say, 'does it wear a semblance of propriety, that if he 
brought a letter or note written to me, the cardinal should act u.pon 
that, even although the note should say the .bearer was to be trusted 
with the jewels in question ? Now the cardinal ought not to have 
returned me this note, which would then have become a receipt 
for him ; both this note and the other, which mentions the receipt 
of the jewel, saying, "it is superb," and which MM. St. James, 
Bassenge, and Bohmer, all depose to having seen in the cardinal's 
hands. I request him to bring these letters before my judges, as 
well as two hundred others which he has read to me, and told me 
that they all came from the queen; and ask that he should be called 
upon to declare whether these letters were written by M. Villette. 
I hope you will emphatically insist that the cardinal shall produce 
them to the court, to be compared with that same approuve of the 
contract with the jewellers, which Villette himself confesses to have 
written. If my judges will take the trouble to examine these, I 
dare affirm that they will find letters in three different hands, but 
not a single one in the hand of M. Villette.' 



FOUR ABBES ATTACK THE COUNTESS. 259 

"* Messieurs St. James and Bohmer have deposed that they 
have read a letter in the hands of the cardinal upon the terrace at 
Versailles, containing this expression : " I am perfectly contented 
with the jewel ; it is superb," &c. These persons have further 
deposed that the cardinal at the same time informed them that 
this letter came from the queen; and I, for my part, gentlemen, 
repeat what I have previously deposed,^ and do now positively 
affirm and most solemnly declare, that I have also seen — ^that I 
have also myself read that letter." 

" The president then asked me if I really believed that letter 
came from the queen as well as the two hundred other letters 
which the cardinal showed me. I replied, that 'the cardinal had 
given me his confidence and trusted me with his secrets. During 
the whole time I was so intrusted, he told me that he had seen the 
queen, and received letters from her ;' which was all I could, con- 
sistent with delicacy and propriety, permit myself to say. 

" I had scarce uttered these words, when four abbes all rose up 
at once, though at some distance from each other, and began their 
speeches together. Nothing was to be heard but the hoarse 
jargon of contention. At length the discord abated, and the three 
gave way to the first ; but as his question was of no consequence, 
I did not condescend to make any reply. At this, many persons 
present significantly shrugged their shoulders. The second and 
third were of a piece with the first ; the fourth, as having more 
pretension to wit, T thought it necessary to reply to. This was the 
Abbe Sabattier, whose stentorian voice almost shook the founda- 
tions of the hall. ' The countess,' said he, ' pretends that she has 
not interfered in any way concerning the sale of the Necklace. 
Why, then, when she was asked, " Who those persons were she 
had at her table ?" did she reply that " They were persons with 
whom she had business ? " I maintain that this answer goes to 
prove that she has been concerned in the sale of the Necklace ; for 
if it were not to treat with them respecting it, why should she 
have any business with them?' I looked at this gi-eat and 
penetrating genius with all that admiration which so shrewd a re- 
mark was entitled to. *The question,' said I, 'that the Abbg 

^ Nothing of the kind is to he found in the records of the countess's 
examinations. 



260 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Sabattier puts to me is destitute of common sense ; it is, therefore, 
unnecessary to reply to it.* All the voices then raised themselves 
with one accord, bawling to the registrar, 'Write down what 
madame says, that the Abbe Sabattier's question is unworthy an 
answer, and has in it neither reason nor common sense ! ' 

'* The abb^, a good deal nettled, exclaimed, loudly, * Gentlemen, 
I have a right to speak without being an object of derision, how- 
ever much what I may have said may amuse you.' At this they 
all burst into a roar of laughter. As soon as they had finished 
exercising their risibility, * Gentlemen,' said I, * the questions of 
Messieurs the abbes do not in the least surprise me. I am fore- 
warned that these gentlemen, who are about five in number, have 
had some hopes of recruiting their party by the addition of a 
sixth, and that all will give their votes in favour of the cardinal.' 
The registrar was now ordered, with a great deal of solemnity, to 
read to me the question of this aforesaid sagacious abbe, whom I 
answered in the following manner : — 

" * Gentlemen, the jewellers have indeed charged me in their 
depositions, but in their confrontations,. where they were with me 
face to face, they have discharged me, since in carrying them the 
cardinal's note which requested their address, Bassenge admits 
that I desired him to use particular caution in dealing with the 
cardinal. I ask my judges if the jewellers .are under no obligation 
to me, however slight it may be ? Am I not the primary cause of 
the sale of the Necklace [no doubt of it, and the jewellers must 
indeed have felt greatly obliged to the countess for the share she 
had altogether in the business], since it was to the cardinal I spoke 
of it, who purchased it, he says, for the queen 1 Laporte himself 
positively deposed that I had told him above a hundred times that I 
would have nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace, and even 
that I absolutely rejected the offer of two hundred thousand livres 
in diamonds. I would further observe to my judges, that if I had 
wished to have appropriated the Necklace to my own use, I should 
certainly, in that case, have accepted the jewellers' offer, so as to 
conceal my intention of stealing the Necklace.' 

'^ M. de Bretigni^res, honorary counsellor, who sat near me, now 
asked me a question. * Since then, madame,' said he, * you have 
read and seen such a great number of letters in the cardinal's 



THE QUEEN THEE'd AND THOU'd THE CARDINAL. 261 

hands, you can tell us what they contained, and if the cardinal 
answered them ? ' I replied, that the question was extremely in- 
discreet and dangerous, and that it had better be put to the 
cardinal, who could be commanded to produce these letters, in 
w^hich case the counsellor could satisfy his curiosity by reading 
them himself. My judges still insisting on clear categorical 
answers respecting these letters, I was obliged to reply as to their 
contents. * Yes, gentlemen,' answered I, ' one of them makes 
mention of an appointment broken — of their pleasure at meeting ; 
others "thee'd" and "thou'd" the cardinal' 'Does madame 
really believe that these letters came from the queen — were 
written by the queen herself?' * I do not know whether I ought to 
declare my thoughts concerning the acts of a queen, whom I am 
bound to honour and respect.' ' But did not madame think these 
expressions very strong — too strong to induce her to believe that 
they came from the sovereign ? ' ' That was the reason of my first 
expressing astonishment to the cardinal.' ' What answer did he 
make ? ' 

" I was at length obliged to answer fully the questions which 
were put, feeling, after being so persecuted, that I could not re- 
treat; but I cannot now remember the immense number of 
questions I was asked, nor the answers I gave, ' Bravo ! bravo !' 
frequently exclaimed many of my judges. ' Certainly, certainly,' 
said they, clapping their hands, ''tis well replied.' 'Let the lady 
alone,' cried out numerous voices." 

The " Compte rendu " of the Necklace case fortunately enables 
us to supply the deficiency in the countess's memory with respect 
to the foregoing incident. It seems that, in referring to a particular 
letter which she first of all stated commenced with the words 
" Send to the little countess," and which letter she asserted had 
been shown to her by the cardinal as written by the queen, she 
continually misquoted the opening phrase, converting it into 
" Send hy the little countess." M. Barillon, after pointing out this 
variation in her evidence, asked of her the reason of it — a simple 
enough question, not requiring, one would think, much considera- 
tion to answer. The countess, however, after much hesitation, 
remarked with an air of mystery that she did not wish to reply to 
it ; because, by doing so, she would offend the queen. Whereupon, 



262 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

several of the judges represented to her that the sacred persons Of 
their majesties could not suffer by any statement she might make, 
and that she owed the whole truth to justice. Then, getting 
angry, she exclaimed, that the letter really commenced with the 
words, " Send thou the little countess," and she added that the 
cardinal had shown her upwards of two hundred letters in which 
the queen " thou'd " and " thee'd " the grand almoner, and made 
assignations with him, several of which had taken place.^ 

The countess tells us that she now made observations on the 
whole of the accusation against her. " All the questions which 
had been addressed to me," she goes on to say, " together with my 
answers, were written down and read over to me. The president 
then asked me if I had anything more to add, to which I replied 
in the negative, only I particularly entreated that my judges would 
condescend to examine thoroughly into this business with an im- 
partial eye, from whence I could not but entertain the strongest 
hopes that their definitive judgment would be in my favour." 

"My enemies," remarks Madame de la Motte, " have laboured to 
convey the impression that before my judges I was bold and lo- 
quacious. They accused me, too, of pride. They were also kind 
enough to put words into my mouth which I never made use of, 
making me say, with respect to the cardinal, ' I am going to con- 
found this great knave.' " ^ 

Whether these accusations are true or false, we have no means 
of judging. It is quite certain, however, that the countess con- 
sidered she had acquitted herself in rather a smart manner before 
her judges ; and when they laughed at and cheered her sallies 
against the abbes, she no doubt thought she had succeeded in hood- 
winking not a few of them, quite forgetting that though mankind 
may be ready enough to be amused, it is not invariably at the ex- 
pense of its reason and its judgment. 

"After I had made my obeisances to the assembly," continues 
the countess, " I withdrew, and was conducted by the keeper of 
the Conciergerie and a great many gentlemen whom I did not 
know, to his wife's apartment. All paid me their compliments, all 
expressed their approbation, observing that I defended myself well, 

^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement, " etc., p. 115. 
= "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 100, et seq. 



ENTRANCE OF THE PRINCE DE ROHAN. 263 

and that even an experienced advocate could not have pleaded my 
cause better." ^ 

As soon as the countess had retired, the first presiden£ gave 
orders for the sellette to be removed, and sent to inform the cardi- 
nal that, this having been done, he could present himself before 
the court. ^ The Prince de Rohan entered, attired in a long purple 
robe, the mourning colour of cardinals, and with scarlet stockings 
and cap, and wearing his orders round his neck, saltier- wise. " He 
had," says his admiring grand-vicar, in his most grandiloquent 
style, " the noble presence of a man profoundly affected, but calm, 
in the midst of his troubles ; his countenance expressed alike re- 
spect, modesty, and dignity, which disposed his judges favourably 
towards him. He held himself erect at the bar, his pallid com- 
plexion indicating the ravages of a recent illness which had nearly 
proved fatal to him. The first president, at the request of several 
of the councillors, invited him to be seated during the long exa- 
mination which he was about to undergo. The prince marked his 
sensibility of the proffered favour by a profound bow, and only 
availed himself of it at the third invitation. Questioned success- 
ively by certain of his judges, who hoped to obtain satisfactory in- 
formation on points not perfectly plain, he astonished them by the 
clearness, the precision, and the force of his answers. He per- 
ceived the great interest which his humiliating situation inspired, 
and profited by it frankly to develop the various false steps which 
his good faith and credulity had caused him to take. * I was com- 
pletely blinded,' exclaimed he, ' by the intense desire which I felt 
to regain the good graces of the queen.' This touching scene ex- 
cited a profound sensation in the breasts of the members of this 
august tribunal which was about to decide the fate of one of the 
highest personages in the kingdom." ^ 

When the examination of the cardinal was concluded, Cagliostro 
was summoned before the court. He presented himself before his 
judges dressed in a green velvet coat, embroidered over with gold 
lace ; his hair, plaited from the top of his head, fell in small curls 
over his shoulders, which gave him a singular appearance, not alto- 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 118, 

^ " Anecdotes dii r6gne de Louis XVI.," vol. i. p. 410. 

3 " M^^moires pour servir," etc., par I'Abb^ Georgel, vol. ii. p. 197. 



261 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACK 

gether inconsistent with the character of the charlatan he was 
commonly believed to be. "Who are you? — whence do you come?" 
was asked of him. " I am a noble traveller," he replied. At these 
words the countenances of the judges brightened up, and observing 
that they seemed well disposed towards him, Cagliostro entered 
boldly upon his defence, intermingling his bad French with Greek, 
Arabic, Latin, and Italian. His expression, his gestures, iand his 
vivacity were as amusing as the subject-matter of his discourse, and 
he quitted the hall perfectly satisfied with having made his judges 
smile.^ 

The Demoiselle d'Oliva was examined the last. As she had 
already confessed all she knew, and had nothing to add to her pre- 
vious testimony, the interrogatories addressed to her were not 
many, and she was soon permitted to retire. 

* "Anecdotes du r^gne de Louis XVI.," vol. i. p. 400. 



EFFORTS MADE TO INFLUENCE THE JUDGES. 265 



XXXIII. 

1786. May 31. 

DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT. THE SENTENCES. 

From half-past four in the morning of the .31st of May all the mem- 
bers of the cardinal's family, women as well as men, were assembled 
at the door of the parliament chamber, in order to be in the way of 
the judges as they passed into the hall. " They employed," we 
are told, "no other means of solicitation beyond preserving a mourn- 
ful silence, in which might be discerned alike their grief, their 
firmness, and their respect for the throne and for the laws. This 
mode of solicitation, so noble, so worthy of the illustrious houses of 
Eohan, Soubise, Guem^n^e, and Lorraine, and at the same time so 
perfectly conformable to the nature of the affair in which the car- 
dinal was implicated, made a more profound impression upon his 
judges than all the eloquence which was exercised in his behalf."^ 
If the members of the cardinal's family did not, on this occasion, 
publicly appeal to his judges in his favour, it is certain that during 
the course of the proceedings every effort had been made by the 
grand almoner's relatives and friends to increase the number of his 
adherents among the councillors who had to judge the case. Mes- 
dames de Marsan and de Brionne, and the Prince de Soubise, visited 
all the members of the Grand Chamber in turn, and solicited them 
in the cardinal's behalf;^ besides which, on the very morning of the 
trial, Madame de Brionne, dissatisfied with the attitude of the first 
president, did not scruple to reproach him in his own house with his 
partiality and bad faith, and to plainly tell him that it was well 
known he had sold himself to the Court.^ We know that the prime 



1 <«, 

2 CI. 



Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass^ au Parlement," etc., p. 118. 

Correspondance Secr6te In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette, " 
etc., vol. i. p. 615. 

3 "Correspondance In^dite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de 
Boufflers " (Paris 1875). 



266 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

minister, the Count de Vergennes, was a secret partisan of the grand 
almoner's, and we know also, that M. de Laiirencel, the procm'eur- 
general's deputy, drew up a list of names of members of the Great 
Chamber, wherein he set forth against each the means that had 
been employed to gain that particular councillor's vote. This list 
was found in after years among the papers which Marie- Antoinette 
intrusted to M. Campan during the Kevolution, and which his 
daughter-in-law, Madame Campan, afterwards had under her charge. 
From this document it would seem that ladies of the highest 
position did not scruple to accept large bribes to exercise their 
powers of seduction in the cardinal's behalf, and it was by these 
means, we are told, that some of the most venerable and most re- 
spectable among the judges had been corrupted.^ 

Between five and six o'clock the Parliament, Grand Chamber, 
and Tournelle, had assembled. The number of members present 
amounted to sixty-two, which subsequently became reduced to 
forty-nine, when the loquacious clerical councillors had retired, as 
they were obliged to do, on its being found that the judgment 
involved afflictive punishments.^ 

The proceedings were opened by the procureur-g^neral, M. Joly 
de Fleury, who, when controleur-general in former years, had ex- 
perienced his share of persecution at the hands of Madame de la 
Motte, with whom he had now the opportunity of clearing off a 
few old scores. In a most able speech he submitted to the Par- 
liament the following extremely fair proposition : First, that the 
Parliament should adjudge the " approuves " and the pretended 
signature of the queen to be forgeries ; secondly, that Count de la 
Motte should be sentenced to the galleys for life, by reason of his 
contumacy; thirdly, that Villette should undergo a similar sen- 
tence, and further, that he should be whipped and branded, and 

^ "Memoirs of Marie Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 295. 
In the doubtful Memoirs of the Princess de Lamballe, we find that Princess 
asserting she had had in her possession documentary evidence of the immense 
sums spent by the Princess de Cond6 in corrupting the judges and other 
persons. More than a million francs were expended, she says, by the 
families of Rohan and Cond6 in this way. See " M^moires relatifs h la 
Famille Poyale de France," etc., vol. i. pp. 306-7. 

^ "Anecdotes du r6gne de Louis XVI.," vol. i. p. 412. 



ATTACK ON THE PROCUREUR-GENERAL. 267 

his effects be confiscated; fourthly, that Madame de la Motte should 
be confined for life in the prison of the Salpetriere, after being 
whipped and branded, her effects to be likewise confiscated ; fifthly, 
that the Cardinal de Rohan should ask pardon of the king and 
queen for having been wanting in respect towards their sacred per- 
sons ; that he should be banished the precincts of the Court, and 
that, during a period to be fixed by the Parliament, he should be 
suspended from his office of grand almoner ; that he should be sen- 
tenced to such alms-giving as the Parliament might direct ; and, 
finally, that he should be kept in confinement until he had obeyed 
and satisfied the judgment now given. Sixthly, that D'Oliva be 
put out of court. Seventhly, that Cagliostro be acquitted. ^ 

The party opposed to the queen at once rejected these proposals. 
No sooner had M. Joly de Fleury done speaking, than M. de 
Barillon, a partisan of the cardinal's, started up and exclaimed that 
the conclusions to which they had just listened were not those of a 
procureur-general, but rather those of a minister whom it was not 
difficult to recognize ; alluding, of course, to the Baron de Breteuil, 
The advocate-general, M. Seguier, to the surprise of the excited 
councillors, joined in this attack upon his colleague, whom he per- 
sonally denounced.'"' Hereupon quite a scene ensued and accusa- 
tions were bandied backwards and forwards between the legal officers 
of the crown. M. de Fleury reproached M. Seguier with his loose 
and disorderly life, with his nightly rambles in the Palais Royal, 
and the money that these cost him. " It may be so," replied the 
other, " out of my house I do what I please, but no one has known 
me to sell my opinion basely to fortune." The procureur-general 
made no reply to this insinuation but remained stupefied as it 
were with his mouth open.^ 

The incident having terminated, M. de Mineres passed in re- 
view all the various impostures of Madame de la Motte, maintained 
that the cardinal was not her only victim, that the jewellers had 
been equally deceived, for they loaded her with thanks for the exer- 
tions she had made in their behalf, and offered her presents, whereas, 

"^ Extract from the Imperial Archives given in M. Campardon's '* Marie- 
Antoinette et le proems du Collier, " p. 149. 

° " M^moires du Baron de Besenval," vol. iii. p. 133. 

3 " Correspondance In^dite de la Comtesse de Sabran," etc., p. 123. 



268 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

neither thanks nor presents were offered to the cardinal, whom the 
jewellers regarded simply as an instrument chosen by the countess 
to conduct the negotiation : other speakers instanced the letter of 
thanks which the cardinal had repeatedly advised the jewellers to 
send to the queen, as a convincing proof of his good faith. M. de 
Jonville, third master of requests, attributed the evidence which 
appeared to tell most against the cardinal entirely to the bad 
memory of Bohmer, of which he gave several proofs.^ 

The speeches of Councillors D'Epr^menil and Fretteau, and the 
Abbe Sabattier, produced however the greatest effect. This cele- 
brated trio showed the utmost boldness in attacking the court and 
braving its anger, and spoke vehemently in favour of the cardinal's 
complete acquittal.^ Singularly enough, it was these very same 
three men who, a year or two afterwtirds, stirred up the Parliament 
to refuse to register the royal edicts, and were among the first to 
demand the convocation of the States-general, for which acts of 
temerity the two last were packed off by lettres-de-cachet — the one 
to the Castle of Ham, the other to dreary Mont St. -Michel, and 
D'Epremenil, a few months later to the Isle of Sainte-Marguerite 
(Calypso's enchanted island,) whence he returned — the Revolution 
having made rapid strides meanwhile — "a red-hot royalist," to 
finish his career under the axe of the guillotine. M. Robert de 
St. -Vincent was another of those who spoke in favour of the Prince 
de Rohan, who, he maintained, had been deceived by the most 
plausible lies. He denied the legality of the procureur-g^n^ral's 
conclusions, and the power of the Parliament to incorporate them 
in its judgment, and asked for the cardinal's acquittal. He con- 
demned, too, the publicity given to the proceedings, and expressed 
his regret that the king and queen had not been advised by some 
wiser minister, who would have been more regardful of the dignity 
of the crown. The president, D'Ormesson — the same who 
sent the countess a few louis " by the hands of the police " 
— offered an amendment to the procureur-g^n^ral's proposi- 
sition, to the effect that the cardinal should retain his offices 
and dignities, but that he should be required to ask pardon of the 
queen for the offence he had committed. There was no difference 

^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," p. 123. 

= " Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293. 



JUDGMENT PBONOUNCED BY THE PARLIAMENT. 269 

of opinion among the judges as to the measure of punishment 
to be meted out to Madame de la Motte, excepting that MM. 
Eobert de Saint-Vincent and Dyonis du Sejour pressed the 
passing of sentence of death upon her. As her crime, however, had 
been unforeseen by the laws, this penalty could not be legally in- 
flicted.1 

The discussion, which was very animated, continued throughout 
the day. At two o'clock in the afternoon the sitting was sus- 
pended, in order that the judges might dine at a table which the 
first president had had set out for them in the hall of St.-Louis ; 
the greater number, we are told, ate standing, and by half-past 
three the sitting was resumed. Between nine and ten o'clock at 
night, after the final voting had taken place, the following judg- 
ment was delivered.^ 

" The Court, the Great Chamber assembled, in the exercise of its 
jurisdiction and on the conclusions of the procureur-general of the 
king, declares that the words ^ approuve' and the signature, ^Marie- 
Antoinette de France, have been fraudulently appended to the mar- 
gin of the document, entitled, * Propositions and Conditions of 
Price and Payment ' for the Necklace brought in question at this 
trial, and "which are falsely attributed to the queen ; orders that 
the said words * approuve,' and the said signature, ^ Marie- Antoinette 
de France,' shall be struck out and erased from the said document, 
and that mention shall be made of the present decree on the same, 
which will be and shall remain deposited in the criminal registry 
of the Court,^ of all of which afiirmation shall be made by the court 
registrar. 

" Adjudging the consequences of the contumacy declared good 
and valid by the decree of the Court of the 10th of April, 1786, 
against Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte accused, absent — 

" For the facts proved by the proceedings condemns the said 
Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte to be flogged and beaten naked 
with rods, and branded with a hot iron on the right shoulder with 

^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass^ au Parlement," etc., p. 121. 

^ " Anecdotes du r^gne de Louis XVI.," vol. i. p. 412. 

3 Spite of this express order the document is not to be found among the 
other papers relating to the '* Affaire du Collier," preserved in the National 
Archives. 



270 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the letters * G. A. L.' by the public executioner ; this done to be 
led and conducted to the galleys of the king, there to be detained 
to serve our said king as convict for life.^ 

" Declares all the goods of the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la 
Motte acquired and confiscated to the king, or whomsoever he may 
appoint, a fine of two hundred livres to the king being previously 
levied thereon : which sentence, by reason of the contumacy of the 
said De la Motte, shall be written upon a tablet, which shall be 
affixed to a post planted for this purpose in the Place de Greve 
(place of execution). 

"Banishes Louis-Marc- Antoine Retaux de Villette from the 
kingdom for life. 

" Condemns Jeanne de Valois de Saint-Remi de Luz, wife of 
Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte, while having a halter round her 
neck, to be flogged and beaten naked with rods, and branded with 
a hot iron upon both shoulders with the letter *V,' by the public 
executioner ; this done, to be led and conducted to the prison of 
the Salpetriere, there to be detained and confined for life.^ 

" Declares likewise all the goods of the said De la Motte, and 
the said Retaux de Villette, acquired and confiscated to the king, 
or to whomsoever he may appoint ; a fine of two hundred livres to 
the king being previously levied upon each. 

" Upon the complaint and accusation brought at the request of 
the procureur-general of the king against Marie-Nicole Le Guay, 
alias d'Oliva or Dessigny, puts the parties out of court and dis- 
charges the process. 

" Discharges Alexandre de Cagliostro and Louis-Rene-Edouard 
de Rohan from the complaint and accusation brought against them 
at the request of the procureur-general of the king. 

" Orders, that the memorials printed for Jeanne de Saint-Remi 
de Valois de la Motte shall be and shall continue to be suppressed, 
as containing false statements, injurious and calumnious alike 
against the said Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro. 

^ The letters GAL, with which Count de la Motte was sentenced to be 
branded, were doubtless intended as an abbrevation of the word Galetien, 
or galley slave. 

= This branding of the Countess with the letter V, was designed to 
signify Voleuse, or thief. 



THE PALACE BESIEGED BY IMMENSE CROWDS. 271 

" Upon the remainder of the request of the said De Cagliostro, 
alike against Commissary Chenon and De Launay, governor of 
the Bastille, puts it out of court, without prejudice to his 
appeal when and how he may be advised ; upon the rest of the 
demands, requests, and conclusions of the parties puts these out 
of court. 

" Gives permission to the Cardinal de Rohan and the said De 
Cagliostro to cause the present judgment to be printed and posted 
up wheresoever it may seem good to them."^ 

Contemporary accounts agree in stating that something like ten 
thousand people were assembled in the courts and passages of the 
palace and in the neighbourhood of their approaches, all anxious to 
leara the judgment of the Parliament. ^ Crowds streamed across 
the Pont Neuf, the Pont Saint-Michel, the Pont-au-Change, and 
the Ponts Notre-Dame, coming from all parts of Paris. There 
were courtiers, men of letters, financiers, abbes, avocats, avoues, 
shopkeepers and their wives, students, working men, soldiers, 
police agents, men and women from the holies^ and idlers of every 
description. " About nine o'clock at night," says Madame de la 
Motte, "I heard a report like that of acclamation in the courtyard. 
I ran to look out of one of the windows which commanded a view 
of the court, and saw crowds of people running very fast by the 
great staircase. I could not distinctly understand what they said, 
except that one of them, who was very near the window, cried out, 
* Bravo ! bravo ! Upon my word, it is very fortunate for the 
cardinal ; but what will become of poor Madame de la Motte ? ' 
The moment these words vibrated in my ear, they were like an 
electric shock. Unable to sustain myself, my legs bent under me : 
I tottered and sank into a chair. When I was a little recovered, 
the keeper of the Conciergerie, assisted by his son, conducted me 
to my apartment, where having left me for a few minutes, with a 
view of gaining authentic information of the definitive sentence of 
the court, they soon after returned. * The cardinal,' said they, 'is 
put out of court, and delivered from further process ; Cagliostro 
and D'Oliva are the same ; Villette, madame, is banished, as well 

* •• Arret du Parlement," preserved in the National Archives, X2 2576. 
=* "M^moires Historiques et Politiques du r6gne de Louis XVI.," par 
I'Abb^ Soulavie, vol. vi. p. 73. 



272 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

as you.' ' For how long? ' 'I believe, for three years ; but every- 
body blames the judges. We think there will be some altera- 
tion.' "^ 

It is likely enough that, out of consideration for the countess 
and her well-known violent temper, the foregoing innocent piece of 
deception was practised upon her by the keeper of the Conciergerie, 
who soon afterwards prevailed upon her to retire to rest. Mean- 
while the judges were leaving the palace, pressed upon by an im- 
mense crowd of people, who made the walls of the old building 
ring again with their acclamations. A thousand voices shouted 
out, " Vive le Parlement P^ "Vive le Cardinal V The market 
women, throwing themselves in the way of the departing coun- 
cillors, vociferated their applause, and offered them bouquets of 
flowers. M. Titon, one of the reporters of the case, who, with his 
fellow-reporter, Dupuis de Marce, had adopted the conclusions of 
the procureur-g^n^ral, threw the flowers back again with marked 
ill-humour, to let the people see that he merited no share of this 
popular ovation. Something, however, more substantial than 
flowers were in store for M. Titon, for the king conferred on him 
the post of civil lieutenant in reward for his zeal.^ 

When MM. Target and De Bonni^res, the advocates who had 
advised the cardinal to take his trial before the Parliament, sought 
to enter the record office to communicate -the judgment to their 
client, curt old De Launay, governor of the Bastille, who had the 
Prince de Bohan in his charge, informed them that he had received 
specific orders from the Baron de Breteuil not to allow any one to 
speak to his prisoner. On its being represented to him that the 
cardinal was no longer in legal custody, since he had been formally 
discharged of the accusation against him by the judgment of the 
Parliament just rendered, and on the bystanders expressing their 
disapprobation by loud murmurs, he eventually permitted the two 
advocates to enter. " The cardinal, robed in the Roman purple," 
says Cagliostro, " was carried off" in triumph ; "^ and so he was, 
but to the Bastille. As soon as the interview between the grand 

^ ** Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 120-1. 
^ '* Correspondance Secrete In^dite siir Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. ii. p. 63. 
3 *' Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro.". 



VIVE LE CARDINAL ! 273 

almoner and his counsel had terminated, De Launay informed him 
that, the Parliament having separated, he would have to return to 
that gloomy state prison. Hearing this, the cardinal proceeded to 
follow his gaoler to the carriage, while the people rushed forward, 
and kissed both his hands and his garments. To impose upon the 
crowd De Launay gave orders for the vehicle to be driven " to the 
hotel, "^ and the people, imagining the Palais-Cardinal to be intended, 
ran beside the carriage, shouting their congratulations, and only 
quitted it when it disappeared within the walls of the grim old 
fortress, every stone of which was destined in little more than three 
short years to be razed to the ground. 

' "Correspondance In^dite de la Comtesse de Sabran," etc., p. 125. 



274 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NEQ&LACE. 



XXXIV. 

1786. June. 

the sentences carried out, " what is reserved for the blood 

of the bourbons?" 

The evening following that on which judgment was pronounced, the 
gates of the Bastille were opened to the cardinal, who returned to 
the Palais-Cardinal at half-past ten o'clock at night. There he 
found the members of his family and the people of the quartier 
waiting to receive him, and testify their joy at his acquittal.^ 

Cagliostro shared the popular ovations. He, too, was conducted 
back in a sort of triumph to the Bastille, where he remained until 
he recovered possession of the portfolio and other effects, minus, 
however, the one hundred thousand francs in cash and bills seized 
in his house, he tells us, by Commissary Chenon. He left the 
Bastille late at night in a hackney coach. The evening, he says, 
was dark, the part of the city he lived in retired, but when he ar- 
rived at his house in the Rue Saint-Claude he found himself 
welcomed by the acclamations of thousands. The doors of his 
hotel had been burst open ; the courtyard, the staircase, the very 
apartments — indeed, every corner of the house was crowded with 
people.^ 

As for Eetaux de Villette, he himself tells us that he was recom- 
mended by both the gaoler and the executioner to take his departure 
as rapidly as possible — advice which he was only too ready to follow. 
" Outside the city gate," he says, "a great man, who belonged, I 
believe, to the cardinal, took me on one side, and gave me a purse 
of fifty-five louis, and a note to the Abbe d'Aimar, to whom, he told 
me, I was to make known my future wants. When, however, I 

* " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement, " etc., p. 153, et seq. 
- = " Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro," p. 27. 



INDIGNATION OF THE KING AND QUEEN. 275 

desired to profit by these instructions, I could obtain no reply. "^ 
Cagliostro says that Villette was banished in the ignominious sense 
of the term — that is, led out of prison, with a rope round his neck, 
by the executioner, who, when they arrived together at the city 
gate, gave him, first of all, a loaf, and then a kick behind, with 
strict injunctions never to return.^ The fifty-five louis, however, 
were some sort of salve to the indignity offered to the person of 
the ex-gendarme. 

Mademoiselle d'Oliva, on being told that she was adjudged ''hors 
de cour," thought it to be a prohibition against her going to Ver- 
sailles any more, and faithfully promised to observe it.^ 

It will be readily understood that the sentences of the Parlia- 
ment excited the indignation of both the king and the queen. The 
former inveighed against the judgment as being a most outrageous 
one. The cardinal, he said, knew too well the usages of the Court 
to have been idiot enough to believe that Madame de la Motte was 
admitted near the queen, or was charged with any such commission 
as that of the purchase of the Necklace.^ 

As for Marie-Antoinette, she was profoundly afflicted. " Come 
and weep with me, come and console your friend, my dear Polignac," 
she writes; "the judgment which has just been pronounced is a 
shameful insult. I am bathed in tears of grief and despair. One 
can flatter oneself with nothing when perversity exhausts every 
means to crush my spirit. What ingratitude ! But I shall triumph 
over the wicked by tripling the good which I have always tried to 
do. They will feel greater pleasure in afflicting me than I shall in 
revenging myself upon them. Come, my dear heart. "^ 

In writing to her sister, the queen does not restrain her indigna- 
tion that the cardinal, whom she believed to be the most guilty in 
the affair, should have been allowed to escape. It is thus she ex- 
presses herself: — 

* "M^moire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour," etc., par E^taux de 
Villette, p. 70. 

=" *' Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro," p. 27. 

3 Hon. W. Eden to Mr. Pitt, in "Lord Auckland's Journals and Corres- 
pondence," vol. i. p. 132. 

4 *' Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293. 

s Autograph letter from Marie- Antoinette to the Duchess de Pohgnac, in 
the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 



276 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

♦'1st June, 1786. 

" I need not tell you, my dear sister, how indignant I feel at the 
judgment which has just been pronounced by the parliament, It 
has no respect for royalty; it is a shameful insult, and I am bathed 
in tears of despair, What ! a man who had the audacity to lend 
himself to that indecent and infamous scene in the arbour, who 
supposed that he had an assignation with the Queen of France, with 
the wife of his king, that the queen had received a rose from him,^ 
and had suffered him to throw himself at her feet, should not, when 
a throne is concerned, be held guilty of high treason, but should be 
simply regarded as one who had been deceived ! It is odious and 
revolting. Pity me, my good sister ; I did not merit this injury, I 
who have endeavoured to do good to all who surround me, and who 
only remember that I am the daughter of Marie-Therese, to show 
myself, as she recommended me when embracing me at my de- 
parture, French to the very bottom of my heart. To be so sacri- 
ficed to a perjured priest, to a lewd intriguer, how grievous ! But 
do not think that I shall allow myself to do anything unworthy of 
me. I have declared that I will never seek to revenge myself 
beyond doubling the good which I have already done. I need not 
tell you that the king is indignant like myself ; he exiles the car- 
dinal to La Chaise-Dieu, and Cagliostro is expelled from France. 
Adieu ! My children are well. We all embrace you, and press you 
to our hearts."^ 

To Madame Campan, who knew more of the particulars of the 
intrigue than any one else about the queen, Marie-Antoinette 
mournfully said : "Make me your compliments of condolence; the 
intriguer who wished to ruin me, or to obtain money by abusing 
my name, and forging my signature, has just been acquitted. But 
as a Frenchwoman, also receive my compliments of condolence. 
A people is indeed unhappy to have for supreme tribunal a set of 
men who are swayed by their own passions, many of whom are 

* An inadvertent mistake has been here made by the queen. It was the 
cardinal who received the rose. This incidental error of the queen's 
furnishes a convincing proof, if any were needed, that she played no part in 
the midnight interview with the cardinal. 

^ "Lettres et Documents In^dits de Louis XYI. et Marie- Antoinette, " 
par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 161. 



THE CARDINAL DISGRACED AND BANISHED. 277 

susceptible of corruption, while the remainder are possessed of an 
audacity which tliej are only too ready to manifest against authority, 
as they have just shown in so marked a manner."^ 

" At this epoch," says Madame Campan, " the happy days of the 
queen terminated. Adieu for ever to the peaceful and simple 
pleasures of Trianon, to the fetes where once shone the magnificence, 
intellect, and good taste of the court of France ; adieu, above all, 
to that consideration and respect, the forms of which surround the 
throne, but of which the reality alone is its solid base."^ 

Spite of the judgment of the Parliament, the cardinal was not 
allowed to go entirely scot-free. The king at once wrote to the 
Baron de Breteuil, requiring him to demand from the cardinal the 
resignation of his office of grand almoner, and the surrender of the 
various orders the king had conferred upon him. Accompanying 
this letter was a lettre-de-cachet banishing the cardinal within three 
days to his abbey of the Chaise-Dieu, in the midst of the Auvergne 
mountains, where the king sarcastically intimated he would not be 
likely to receive much company. Until his departure he was com- 
manded to see no one, except his relatives and counsel. If nothing 
else could be done, a stop could, at any rate, be put to receptions 
and ovations at the Palais-Cardinal. 

On receiving the above instructions, the Baron de Breteuil who 
was suffering from gout in the stomach, rose, it is said, from his 
bed completely resuscitated at the prospect of being the bearer to 
the cardinal of such agreeable news.^ He presented himself to the 
Prince de Rohan, on the morning after the release of the latter 
from the Bastille, and just as he had ordered his carriage intend- 
ing to go round and thank his judges. The prince without ap- 
pearing the least disquieted informed the minister that he would 
observe two of the orders of the king with the fidelity, the exactitude, 
and the submission which the Rohans had always shown for the 
sovereign's commands ; but, with regard to his resignation of the 
office of grand almoner, he could not confide this to M. de Breteuil, 
as he had had the honour of sending it to the king an hour ago 

^ "Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette, " by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 23. 
== Ibid., vol. ii. p. 291. 

3 " Correspondance Inedite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de 
Boufflers," p. 125. 



278 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

through the Count de Vergennes.^ The minister pressed the 
prince to sign some further paper in reference to this resignation, 
observing that he did so with regret, but was obliged to obey the 
orders of the king his master " Monsieur," replied the cardinal, 
in a nettled tone, "the king himself has already done justice on 
me. I have no need of an executioner." This mot speedily circu- 
lated all over Paris, and the minister was henceforth styled "Bour- 
reau (executioner) Breteuil."^ Louis XVI.'s minister of justice ex- 
perienced a more severe rebuff when charged, a few years later, 
with carrying out the terms of a lettre- de-cachet banishing the Duke 
d'Orleans to his chateau of Villers-Cotterets for his famous protest 
at the "royal session," when, as Carlyle remarks, he "cut his court 
moorings." The baron wished to accompany the duke in his car- 
riage, in order that, in accordance with the king's commands, he 
might not lose sight of him, whereupon the duke observed, with 
disdainful pride, "Ah, well ! jump up behind." 

On June 2, the day after Cagliostro's release from the Bastille, 
police-inspector Brugnieres entered his apartment and addressed 
him "in the king's name," at which ominous words his heart, he 
says, sank within him. The order of which Brugnieres was the 
bearer was dated on the day preceding, and enjoined the count to 
leave Paris in three days, and the kingdom within three weeks. 
Next day Cagliostro removed to Passy, and &ome few days after to 
St. -Denis, whence he started with his wife to Boulogne-sur-Mer. 
On the 16th they embarked for England under circumstances the 
most sentimental, if we can credit the count's narrative of the 
affair. " The shores that I quitted," observes he, " were lined by 
a crowd of citizens of all classes, who blessed and thanked me for 
the good I had done their brethren, addressing to me the most 
touching farewells. The winds carried me far away from them, 
and I heard them no more, but I saw them again on their knees, 
with their hands raised towards heaven, and it was my turn to 
bless them, and to cry out and repeat, as though they could hear 
me: 'Adieu, Frenchmen! adieu, my children! adieu, my country!'"^ 

The Countess de la Motte remained for three weeks in the Con- 

* •* Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., p. 157. 
^ '* Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland," vol. i. p. 126. 
3 " Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro." 



THE EVENTFUL TWENTY-FIRST OP JUNE. 279 

ciergerie ignorant of the true nature of her sentence, and hoping, 
whatever it might be, that it would not be carried out. "At 
length," she tells us, " the twentj-first of June arrived, that event- 
ful day which will live in my remembrance as long as memory 
itself shall live — that day the most accursed in the calendar of my 
misfortunes. 

" One of the gaolers came to my chamber, and told me that he 
had come from my counsel M. Doillot, 'who,' said the deceiver, 'is 
now in the greffe, (the record office,) and desires to see you as he is 
going immediately into the country, which is the reason why he 
comes so early in the morning. It is to read you a letter which 
he has received from Versailles. It will be unnecessary for you to 
regard your dress, because he is in so great a hurry.' I threw on 
hastily a morning gown, and followed this impostor, who made me 
descend a small staircase which I used to pass every morning to 
go to the lodge of the concierge. He went before me and entered 
first. I pushed the door from me to get through, which I had 
scarce half effected when I found the door forcibly pushed to by a 
person on the other side with as much violence as if he wished to 
secure an ox, whom he was fearful would escape. Some one im- 
mediately seized me by the right arm, and dragged me into the 
greffe, where another laid hold of my other arm, and bound me fast. 
The first thing I observed was the huissier Breton holding some 
papers in his hand, which I conceived, as the concierge had told 
me, would bo read, announcing my pretended banishment. ' No, 
certainly,' said I to Breton, ' I will not endure to hear so unjust a 
sentence, nor fall upon my knees to receive the condemnation of an 
iniquitous cabal, predetermined to sacrifice me !' A great number 
of strange persons were present, many of whom seized me rudely 
round the waist, and others by the legs to oblige me to kneel down, 
but not being able to succeed they held me suspended at a distance 
from the ground. While I was in this posture the huissier read 
my sentence, but the cries I uttered almost drowned his voice. 

" Overpowered by superior strength my resistance became more 
feeble, and in this condition I was dragged to the place where the 
sacrifice was to be completed. Weary and faint, exhausted by my 
cries and the ineffectual struggles I had already made, entreat- 
ing those around me to avenge the innocent and the hlood of their 



280 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

good King Henry II. / I at length lost all sense of reason. I 
could see nothing, could feel nothing which could serve to show me 
what they intended to do."^ 

We will supplement Madame de la Motte's own account of the 
infliction of the sentence passed upon her, by some extracts from 
contemporary memoirs which furnish several curious additional 
particulars. 

" Madame de la Motte," writes the Hon. Mr. Eden to Mr. Pitt, 
" was called up at five, and informed that the Court wished to see 
her. She had no suspicion of the judgment, which is not com- 
municated here to the accused, except in the case of a capital 
sentence. She went in an undress, without stays, which proved 
convenient. Upon the registrar reading the sentence, her surprise, 
rage, and shrieks were beyond description. The hourreau (execu- 
tioner) and his assistants instantly seized her, and carried her into 
an outer court, where she was fastened to a cart with a halter round 
her neck. The hourreau talked to her like a tooth-drawer, and 
assured her most politely that it would soon be over. The whip- 
ping was slight and pro forma, but the branding was done with some 
severity. It is a good idea that the * V ' (voleuse — thief) on her 
shoulders stands also for Valois."^ 

The Countess de Sabran, writing on the day of the occurrence to 
the Chevalier de Boufflers, says^ — "Madame de la Motte was 
punished to-day, at 6 o'clock in the morning, in order to avoid too 
great a concourse of curious people. The unfortunate woman was 
sleeping profoundly when they came to tell her, that her lawyer 
was waiting to talk with her about her affairs ; they had adopted 
this course the more easily to effect their object. She got up, not 
fearing anything, put on a small petticoat and a cloak, and de- 
scended quickly to the room where she beheld eight men and M. 
Le Breton, the registrar, who held her sentence in his hand. At 
this sight she was much agitated, and tried to fly ; whereupon they 

=■ "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 139-142. 

= " Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland," vol. i. p. 132. A 
wit of the time observed, in allusion to the countess's descent from an ille- 
gitimate branch of the Valois, ' ' that she ought not to have been marked 
on the left shoulder, as it was on this side that she hung on to the Bour- 
bons." — See " Correspondance Secr6te In^dite sur Louis XVL, Marie- 
Antoinette," etc., vol. ii. p. 52. 



"spare the blood of the valois." 281 

threw themselves upon her, and tied her little delicate hands, 
which people called charming and which are certainly very dexterous. 
* Why such precautions ? ' she boldly asked. ' I shall not escape 
you ; if you were executioners, you could not treat me worse.' She 
believed that it was only a question of removing her to a convent, 
there to pass a few years. They told her to go down on her knees, 
and as she was not inclined to do so, one of the executioners gave 
her a blow on the ham-strings which brought her to the ground. 
M. Le Breton then read her sentence. At the moment she heard 
she was going to be whipped and branded, she went into convulsions 
and into a fearful fit of passion, biting everything that was near 
her, tearing her clothes, pulling out her hair, &c. In spite of this 
the executioners seized her and carried her to the place of punish- 
ment. There, they put the rope round her neck, and tried in vain 
to undress her ; she defended herself like a lion, with feet, hands, 
and teeth, and so obstinately that they were obliged to cut her 
clothes and even her chemise in order to make an end of the affair; 
which was very indecent, as in spite of the unreasonable hour 
which had been chosen with the object of keeping people away, 
spectators were present in very great numbers. 

" She uttered loud cries, always saying : ' Spare the blood of the 
Valois.' She hurled forth curses against the Parliament; the car- 
dinal, and even some one more sacred, and struggled so that the 
executioner could not perform the operation of branding her as 
perfectly as he wished, and scored her all down the back. After the 
infliction of this sanguinary punishment, they conveyed her in a 
hackney-coach to the Salp^triere."^ 

Nougaret, author of the "Anecdotes of the reign of Louis XVI.," 
says, that "on the countess being conducted before her judges, 
the registrar proceeded to read her sentence ; on hearing which, 
astonishment, fury, rage, and despair seemed all of a sudden to take 
possession of her. Determined not to hear her sentence to the 
end, she flung herself on the ground and rolled about like a person 
convulsed, giving vent to the most horrible yells. The executioner 
and his assistants had the greatest difficulty in removing her to the 
court of the palace, where her sentence was to be inflicted. Im- 

^ *• Correspondance In^dite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de 
Boufflers," pp. 142-3. 



282 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

mediately she perceived the instruments of punishment, she seized 
one of the executioners by the collar, and in a moment of frenzy bit 
a piece out of his hand, then sunk on the ground in convulsions far 
more violent than those she had recently recovered from. It was 
found necessary to tear her clothes off from her to mark her with the 
red-hot iron on her shoulders. During this operation, her cries 
and imprecations were redoubled. A few hours afterwards there 
circulated all over Paris the following epigram on the countess's 
pretensions to the honours of the house of Yalois " — the fleur-de-lis^ 
(the arms of the Valois,) it should be remembered, invariably formed 
part of any mark with v/hich culprits w^ere branded : 

*' A la moderne Valois 
Qui contestera ses droits ? 
La cour des pairs elle-meme, 

Quoi qu'eu termes peu polis, 
Lui fait par arret supreme, 
Endosser les fleurs-de-lis."^ 

Louis Blanc, in his " History of the French Eevolution," quoting 
mainly the Baron de Besenval and the Abb6 Georgel, says : " Tied 
with cords, and dragged into the court of the Palais, she com- 
menced to utter cries, not of terror, but of fury. Addressing herself 
to the people, she exclaimed, ' If they treat thus the blood of the 
Valois, what is the lot reserved for that of .the Bourbons ? ' And 
in the midst of the groans which indignation drew from the crowd, 
these characteristic w^ords were heard : — ' It is my own fault that I 
suffer this ignominy ; I had only to say one word, and I should 
have been hung.' [She not only said this word, but launched forth 
a succession of impure and calumnious charges against the queen, 
couched, too, in the foulest language.] Then like as was done to 
Lally Tollendal, they placed a gag in her mouth, and as she was 
struggling with despair in the hands of the executioner, the red-hot 
iron, which ought to have marked her on the shoulder, glanced off 
and marked her on the breast." 

Retaux de Villette asserts that " people were posted in the court 
of the palace to make a great noise, so that none of the public who 
chanced to be present might hear what Madame de la Motte said. 
The sentence executed, she was thrown half dead into a coach, and 

^ " Anecdotes du r^gne de Louis XVI." vol. i, p. 415, et seq. 



A ROYAL PROGRESS TO CHERBOURG. 283 

driven at full gallop to the Salpetriere/'^ the prison where abandoned 
women were confined. One of the doors of the vehicle having 
flown open on the road, the officers in charge of the countess were 
only just in time to save her from springing out and throwing her- 
self under the wheels. When she arrived at the Salp^triere, she 
made a further attempt to destroy herself by forcing the coverlid of 
her miserable truckle bed into her mouth.^ 

On the day the Countess de Valois de la Motte underwent the 
infliction of the first portion of her sentence, Louis XVI. set out on 
a royal progress to Cherbourg, to be present at the submerging of 
the first cone for the foundation of the gigantic breakwater there. 
As this was being slowly lowered into the sea amidst shouts of 
Vive le Roi ! from thousands of lusty Norman throats, we may be 
quite certain that, what might chance to be " in reserve for the 
blood of the Bourbons " was one of the very last things the king 
was likely to trouble himself about. 

^ **M4moire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour," etc., par Rdtaux de 
Villette, p. 69. 

^ " M<5inoires du Baron de Besenval," vol. iii. p. 140. 



284 THE STORY OF THE PUMOND NECKLACE. 



XXXV. 

Aug. 1785— June 1786. 

COUNT DE LA MOTTE's FLIGHT COLD STEEL AND POISON. 

We must now go back a little in our narrative and see what has 
become of Count de la Motte since his flight from Bar-sur-Aube. 
Beugnot mentions that he took his place in the diligence, but he seems 
to have gone in one of his own carriages, and posted as fast as he 
could, day and night, to Boulogne, where he arrived on the night 
.of August 20, having accomplished the journey of three hundred 
miles, all stoppages included, in little more than forty-eight hours, 
and whence at noon on the 22nd he crossed over to ICngland.^ 
The authorities, who had shown such remissness in not having 
him arrested earlier, now that he was beyond their reach began to 
bestir themselves, and sent orders to the officers of the marshalsea, 
at Boulogne and other ports, to overhaul all vessels leaving 
the harbour, and capture the count if they only got the chance. 
The officer of the marshalsea at Boulogne -was lucky enough to 
capture the count's carriage, which had been left behind at the 
" Hotel du Lion d' Argent," and in his simplicity set a man to 
watch it, for we know not how many days and nights, in the vain 
hope that the count would return and claim it.^ This we need 
hardly say he had not the remotest intention of doing. 

Of the various dangers and mishaps which befel the count on 
this, his second visit to England, full particulars are to be* found in 
the narrative which he himself has written of his adventures.^ He 
started, he tells us, with merely a hundred louis in his purse, and 
made with all speed for England, where, on the occasion of his 

^ " Mdmoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 134. 

^ Autograph letter from the officer of the marshalsea at Boulogne to the 
Baron de Breteuil, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 

3 See the Countess's " Memoires Justificatifs," and "Me'moires In^dits 
du Comte de la Motte." 



PROPOSAL TO KIDNAP THE COUNT. 285 

former trip, he had left some diamonds, " which it was natural," 
he observes, "he should procure." His first call, therefore, was 
on Gray the jeweller, from whom he obtained the diamonds in 
question, and ere long was living on the proceeds arising from 
their sale. While waiting for intelligence as to the turn affairs 
were taking in Paris, he tells us that he visited the Haymarket 
Theatre one evening, and that while returning home in a hackney 
coach a daring attempt was made to assassinate him. His hat 
fortunately saved his skull. A sword was then thrust through the 
little window behind, and nearly spitted him to his seat. However, 
he seems to have escaped without bodily injury. 

Under the pretence that his life was not safe in London, the 
count takes a journey to the north. Whether his life were really 
in danger it is impossible to say, but it is quite certain that his 
liberty was ; for there were serious thoughts at this time of kid- 
napping him and carrying him over to France. The proposal 
emanated from a spy in the pay of the French government named 
Le Mercier. " If," reports he, " in order to carry the individual 
off, cunning should not suffice, we will employ force to conduct 
him to some isolated spot on the banks of the Thames, where we 
will take care to have stationed for a fortnight previously, if neces- 
sary, one of those vessels which bring coal to London from the 
north. Their hulls are so thick, that it would be impossible for 
any one confined in the hold to make himself heard, let him cry out 
as loud as he will."^ 

Before this amiable suggestion of the spy Le Mercier could be 
acted upon. Count de la Motte had taken up his quarters in Lan- 
caster, whence he went to Dublin, next to Glasgow, and finally to 
Edinburgh. Here, he says, he made the discovery that an attempt 
had been made to poison him, as he believed, at some Dublin 
dinner party. At any rate, he was so ill that he was obliged to 
keep his bed for three months. On his recovery he found that he 
was watched whenever he went abroad, which was likely enough 
to have been the case, as at this time Count d'Adhemar, ambassa- 
dor of France in England, wrote, it is said, to a great personage at 

* E-eport dated September, 1785, in the archives of the French Police, 
quoted by Louis Blanc in his "History of the French Revolution." 
Brussels, vol. ii. p. 129. 



288 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the French court, stating that Count de la Motte had withdrawn 
among the mountains of Scotland, where the so-called privileges of 
the Scotch prevented any legal seizure of his person being made ; 
nevertheless he, the ambassador, had found ten well-disposed hardy 
mountaineers who would undertake to capture the count and carry 
him over to France, for which service, as they would probably have 
to employ as much force as seduction in the accomplishment of it, 
and incur the risk of being hanged, they demanded a thousand 
louis each. The queen, having heard of this letter, at once said 
that even if it were necessary to give double this amount, there 
ought not to be a moment's hesitation, since the presence of the 
Count de la Motte was the one thing wanting to thoroughly unveil 
a most abominable conspiracy and to punish the authors of it. 
Orders were thereupon given to place the requisite sum at the 
ambassador's disposal.^ By this time, however, the count had left 
Edinburgh, and gone south to Newcastle-on-Tyne, where, he pre- 
tends, the capuchin, McDermott, whose acquaintance he made 
when last in England, bribed by the handsome offer of ten thou- 
sand pounds, attempted to poison him on several occasions.^ We 
do not believe a word of this ; the French government were no 
doubt anxious to secure the count's presence at the approaching 
trial, and would have been only too glad of a chance of kidnapping 
him ; but that they, or indeed any one else, wished to put him out 
of the way, is extremely improbable, for it was his evidence, and 
not his silence, that they desired to ensure. 

About this time, namely, early in April, 1786, a woman named 
Costa, wife of one of the ambassador's spies, who had succeeded 
in scraping acquaintance with Count de la Motte, crossed over to 
Paris with a letter from the count to M. Doillot, Madame de la 
Motto's counsel, in which he stated that he could make the inno- 
cence of his wife clear as day if he only dared come forward. The 
count insinuated that he had a letter of the cardinal's, inquiring of 
him whether he had succeeded in disposing of the diamonds.^ On 
the woman Costa's return to England she went, according to her 

^ " Compte rendu de ce qui s'est pass6 au Parlement," etc., pp. 65, 66. 
^ " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," pp. 103, et seq. 
^ ' ' Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI. , Marie-Antoinette, " 
etc., vol. ii. p. 33. 



THE COUNT NEGOTIATES WITH THE AMBASSADOE. 287 

own account, by direction of the Paris police to Count d'Adhemar, 
who bade her tell her husband to take a house at Newcastle-on- 
Tyne, so as to facilitate the drugging of the count and conveying 
him on board a French ship which was lying ready in the harbour 
under the command of one Surbois, an exempt of the French police. 
Madame Costa asserted that her husband had already received a 
bribe of a thousand guineas for this purpose (less a commission of 
sixty guineas which the ambassador's secretary deducted for his 
little pickings out of the affair), and had been promised nine thou- 
sand guineas more when the count was safe on board.^ Costa, 
however, seems to have let the count into the secret, and they came 
up to London together to work upon the ambassadorial exchequer 
as best as they could. 

Arrived there on the 18th of May, Count de la Motte tells us 
that shortly afterwards he meets the French ambassador at Lady 
Spencer's and proceeds to draw him out. From what the ambas- 
sador lets fall, the count comes to the conclusion that the govern- 
ment now wish to get him out of the way simply to ensure his 
silence. " Your presence and deposition," remarks the ambassador, 
" would entirely overthrow all that has hitherto been done, and 
the business would take quite a different turn." He tells the 
count that, according to the advice of the Duke of Rutland, they 
could have seized him when he was at Dublin. They thought, 
however, they had sufficient evidence to convict the cardinal with- 
out his testimony. Next day the ambassador observes to him : 
" It was feared that you would have espoused the cardinal's cause 
in preference to that of the queen. You know your position : the 
De Rohans accuse you of having run away with the remainder of 
the Necklace." He then suggests that the count, by surrendering 
himself can do himself no harm, and might do the queen some 
service, and undertakes to procure him a passport in eight or ten 
day at the farthest. De la Motte of course wants money, or, at 
any rate, hints that he does, and D'Adhemar promises him five or 
six thousand livres. It is then arranged between them what the 
count is to say in his defence. He is on no account to state that 
the countess had access to the queen ; neither is he to mention 

» " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 393-4. 



288 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

anything about the letters said to have been sent by the queen to 
the cardinal. De la Motte, playing with the ambassador like a cat 
does with a mouse, does not see how he can acquit the queen; where- 
upon the ambassador glides off to the cardinal, tells the count to 
repeat all the indecent speeches he has heard him make respecting 
her majesty, who will not be displeased at his so doing. He next 
advises him to say nothing about De Polignac, Coigny, Vandreuil, 
Dillon, or Fersen — all belonging to the queen's society. " As to the 
Necklace," continues D'Adhemar, " I would advise you to say that 
you are persuaded the cardinal gave it, partly or wholly, to your 
wife. The countess will never allow that to be the case, but I am 
certain it really was so. Finally, you must not say a single word 
respecting the Baron de Breteuil." The count suggests giving up 
the countess's necklace which Gray had set, and which by this 
time must certainly have been in pawn, if not sold outright. This, 
D'Adhemar says, would certainly please the king. Then advising 
the count to change his name, and to avoid the tattling of the 
Courrier de VEurope, the ambassador brings the interview to a 
close. 

Other interviews follow ; the count no doubt bleeding the am- 
bassador from time to time pretty freely. Although he talked 
enough about surrendering himself, it is tolerably certain he had 
no intention of running that risk. Vergennes, moreover, believing 
that the count's presence might damage the cardinal's cause, re- 
ceived the proposition with coldness, and did not send the required 
passport. D'Adhemar on one occasion showed Count de la Motte 
the draft of a letter which he had sent to the king through the 
Count de Vergennes, wherein he informed his majesty that the 
count desired to surrender himself and justify the proceedings of 
his wife. " I have, however, been tricked and betrayed by Ver- 
gennes," he remarked, " who kept back the letter until it w^as too 
late, for judgment has now been pronounced." D'Adhemar tells 
the count that his presence in Paris is now more necessary than 
ever. " The procureur-general is going to prefer a fresh complaint 
against the cardinal for ' criminal attempts ' upon the queen, for 
the language he has used, the letters he has exhibited, the pre- 
tended meetings by night, &c., and the Parliament will be by statute 
obliged to try the Necklace affair over again in connection with the 



THE COUNT BECOMES A PERFECT NUISANCE. 289 

new charge." On leaving the ambassador the count hastened to a 
neighbouring coffee-house, where he sees a copy of the judgment 
to which M. d'Adh^mar had just referred, in the Morning Post 
newspaper, and at once writes a savage letter to M. de Yergennes, 
copies of which he sends to the English and French press. 

A few days afterwards, the ambassador's secretary tells the count 
that the queen has determined to abandon the new prosecution, on 
account of the scandal it would create, but will contrive to deprive 
the cardinal of his blue ribbon and places at court, and banish him 
to herd with monks in the savage parts of Auvergne. At this 
news, which indicates a stoppage of further supplies, Count de la 
Motte is inconsolable, and feels, moreover, that he has been duped. 
To let him down as gently as possible, the court protection is pro- 
mised him. For the future, however, the ambassador is " not at 
home " to the count's morning calls ; neither does he take any 
notice whatever of the count's numerous letters.^ 

The count, now grown indignant, threatens all manner of ex- 
posures, and with his letters to the newspapers becomes a complete 
nuisance to the representatives of the French government in Eng- 
land; the ambassador, however, escapes further persecution, for 
just at this moment he is summoned to Paris by his government, 
who, after a time, relieve him of his diplomatic functions, and 
appoint the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother of the old Bishop of 
Langres, in his stead. 

^ " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," pp. 152, e^ seg. 



290 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXXVI. 

1786. June— Dec. 

the salpetriere. truckle-bed and prison fare. 

the count threatens the french court. 

"As soon as Madame de la Motte arrived at the Salp^tri^re," 
remarks Madame Robin, the then superior general of the hospital, 
" she was taken to the registry where all our prisoners are enrolled 
before they are sent to their several prisons : she remained near 
three-quarters of an hour apparently without any knowledge of 
what passed — totally insensible. A little after she came to herself, 
I begged her to search her pockets and let me take her earrings. 
She presented to me her right ear ; she could not speak, and she 
was so disfigured that her shape scarce appeared to be human, 
yet she seemed patient as a lamb going to the fold. The huissiers 
then crammed her into the same hackney-coach, and conveyed her 
to the hall of the Salp^tri^re. Before she entered the prison itself, 
she was taken extremely ill, and we thQught she would never 
recover. 

" We seized the first moment when she appeared to be recover- 
ing, and caused her to be placed by some of the sisters in a bed 
one of the prisoners had given her, which was fortunate for Ma- 
dame de la Motte, otherwise she would have been under the neces- 
sity of lying in a bed full of vermin with six of the poor old 
women." 

" The next day," says Madame de la Motte, " a number of girls, 
habited in the dress of daughters of charity, came to visit me in 
crowds ; they appeared and disappeared like lightning. The offici- 
ating sister, Genevieve, whom I shall never forget, conducted me 
to a small court to take the air, and left me to return to her busi- 
ness. I was scarcely seated when I saw a very great number of 
poor women coming out of a gate into this same court, making a 
most dreadful clattering with their wooden shoes. As soon as they 



THE ABODE OF HORRORS. 291 

saw me they exclaimed, * Oh ! there she is ; there is the lady iu 
the court.' These poor creatures, whose appearance spoke a variety 
of wretchedness, approached and invited me to see the place des- 
tined for my reception. Some of these women took me by the arm 
and led me to what they called the dormitory, the place where 
they slept and where they worked. I had no sooner entered the 
door of this infernal mansion, than I recoiled with terror, but there 
were many women behind, who prevented me from running back, 
otherwise I should have fallen, so great was my horror at sight of 
this hall, containing one hundred and twenty-seven women, whose 
wretchedness may more easily be imagined than described. I 
shrunk back at the sight of this hideous spectacle, while big tears 
rolled down my cheeks, and with a voice stifled by the effect of 
grief, I said, like a child insensible to what passed around me, 
* Poor Valois ! oh, poor Yalois ! ' 

" It will be extremely difficult for me to paint the horrors of this 
dreadful mansion ; every effort is inadequate to give with sufficient 
strength of colouring the interior description of this house of 
misery and its wretched inhabitants. One would have imagined 
from their conduct and behaviour that these women had been 
reared in the forests, for they were almost as wild and savage as 
tigers, having always in their hands either stones, bottles, or chairs, 
ready to throw at the head of any one that displeased them. 
Every day teemed with new squabbles ; they frequently fought 
together, and would sometimes beat one another almost to death. 
This prison was moreover a seminary of vice and depravity even 
too shocking to mention, and, instead of a house for the salutary 
correction of their souls, may more justly be denominated the 
place of their destruction. 

" I will attempt to give a description of this abode of horrors. 
The entry is by a small court about twenty feet broad and forty- 
four in length. Opposite the entrance doors are seven dark cabins 
under a gallery built upon pilasters. These cabins, or rather 
dungeons, are in general between five and six feet long and four 
and a half broad ; in each there is a straw bed, a mattress, with- 
out any furniture, not so much as a chair. Those women who 
come thither, and have money, may purchase these cabins of the 
old prisoners. In each of these cabins is a window about a foot 



292 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and a half square, with no glass, but very thick wooden shutters, 
fastened with massive iron bolts. Below these shutters is another 
small opening to let the air into these cabins. At the bottom of this 
court, to the right, are four stone steps, after which is a little 
passage which divides the great dormitory from the little court. 
On the right is a small court leading to the great one, to serve as a 
walk for one hundred and twenty-seven females, eighty feet long 
and near sixty wide : the walls about sixty-two feet high. Opposite 
the entrance gate of the court leading to the dormitory is a chamber 
for one sister, to which there is an ascent of five steps. 

" Facing the little court is the gate of the dormitory, which is 
very low. This dormitory is sixty feet long and thirteen broad : 
the ceiling fortified with large strong joists ; the wall strengthened 
in the same manner. In this dormitory are six beds about five 
feet in length, composed also of a truss of straw, a mattress, and 
two coarse cloth coverings. Round the beds are benches and 
some chairs. The right side of the window is filled with women 
at work, who have purchased these places, as I also paid for mine, 
for I had been obliged to sit down on the ground in the court, all 
the places, forty in number, being occupied. The walls are entirely 
surrounded with thick shelves, on which the women put their 
victuals. Beneath this dormitory is another, the half of which is 
below ground, where there are three or four beds in a better air 
than the others. Upon the right is a corridor, three feet broad and 
about seventy-five feet long, in which there are thirteen cabins 
much the same as those of which I have before spoken, with low 
unglazed windows and iron bars, so that the miserable inhabitants 
have no defence from the inclemency of the seasons, but the 
rain, wind, hail, and snow beat in upon the cabins. By mounting 
upon the window sills, you may see even to the fourth court, which 
is called the Court Sainte-Claire, where there are always a great 
number of people. Facing the dormitory is a small staircase con- 
ducting to a particular little court which leads into a square op- 
posite to the chapel of this same prison. On the right is the cell 
of the superior sister, Martha. Going out on the right you come 
to a court leading to the kitchen, where are three doors to enter 
the Salpetriere, on both sides of which there are turnkeys. As you 
come out from the Salpetriere there are seven courts, and in every 



REGULATION ALLOWANCE OF THE PETSONERS. 293 

court there are a great number of turnkeys. On the left, opposite 
the entrance passage by the Court Sainte-Claire, are two porticos, 
leading to the three gates of the Salpetrifere. There are in all nine 
courts, which you have to pass before you can leave the hospital. 

" The inhabitants of this den have an old petticoat for clothing, 
and a gown of course grey cloth, stockings of the same kind, a 
coarse shift, a pair of wooden shoes, and a cap. Every woman is 
allowed thrice a week three ounces of boiled beef, on the other 
days about two pennyworth of cheese, with fat broth, and five 
pounds of bread each day. Such is the regulation allowance for 
the sustenance of these wretches. Women, who before have scarce 
ever had a needle in their hands, are here taught to work in a 
short time. Some are taught to stitch wrist-bands, others to make 
shirts and all kinds of plain work; their labours are, however, of 
no advantage to them."^ 

Whilst the countess is doing dreary penance in the Salpetriere, 
and her husband is haunting the London " hells," waiting the re- 
turn of the French ambassador from Paris, to know whether it was 
intended to do him what he styles "justice," a paragraph, no 
doubt instigated by the count himself, appears in some of the 
London newspapers, reproaching him for his timidity in not pub- 
lishing a certain justificatory memoir which had been talked about 
for some time past. Indeed, so notorious had the matter become, 
that the Duke of Dorset writes to Mr. Eden (afterwards Lord 
Auckland), special envoy at the French court, under date Decem- 
ber 7, 1786 — a week before the appearance of the paragraph in 
question — informing him that the Count de la Motte was about to 
publish a memoir in England respecting the Necklace affair, which, 
as it would be certain to contain nothing but falsehoods and 
calumny, he advises the French government to get answered im- 
mediately on its appearance by some clever fellow, and suggests 
the editor of the Courrier de V Europe^ who is understood to be in 
their pay, as a likely sort of person for the task.^ 

* "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 143, et seq. 
The Salpetriere at the present day is a refuge for aged and infirm women, 
and accommodates no less than 4369 inmates. Madame de la Motte!s cell 
is one of the lions of the place shown to visitors. 

^ "Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland," vol. i. p. 397. 



294 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

The count, who is getting rather fond of using his pen, finding 
it a convenient weapon wherewith to insinuate his threats, 
addresses a long letter to the papers in reply to the aforesaid para- 
graph, and stating in explicit terms what he intends to do if this 
"justice," for which he is so anxious, is not speedily done him. It 
did not, perhaps, occur to the count that the only justice he was 
entitled to demand was that already meted out to him by the 
highest legal tribunal in his country, namely, the Court of Parlia- 
ment, which had sentenced him to the scourge, the branding-iron, 
and the galleys. This letter of the count's we subjoin : 

" To the Printer of the Morning Chronicle, 
« Sir, 

"In consequence of a letter inserted in your print of the 13th 
instant, I think myself called upon to interrupt a silence which I 
meant to keep till the return of Comte d'Adhemar ; but such a 
conduct, in the actual state of affairs, would only serve to give 
weight and add importance to the groundless reproaches of 
timidity and indifference laid to my charge. It is incumbent on 
me, in this answer to your correspondent, first to account for the 
motives that have hitherto engaged me to silence, and then to 
give a slight idea of the memorial I propose to lay before the pub- 
lic for my justification. 

" I arrived in London on the 18th of last May, and have never 
since moved from this capital. At that period — previous, as it 
appears from the above date, to the conclusion of the famous pro- 
cess — I had frequent interviews with the French ambassador. My 
memorial will contain a circumstantial detail of what passed be- 
tween us at each appointment. From the line of conduct which 
his excellency struck out for me, as well with respect to M. de 
Vergennes as to my comportment before the Parliament of Paris, 
and from the secret motives imparted to me of the various at- 
tempts of taking me forcibly away, it will self-evidently appear 
that the ambassador looked upon my departure not only as certain, 
but that my presence, earnestly desired, and zealously solicited by 
the most illustrious personages (whose names I shall mention), 
would undoubtedly delay the sentence, and make the whole affair 
wear a different aspect. What was the result % The very person- 



THE count's letter TO THE MORNIKG CHRONICLE. 295 

ages alluded to, like Comte d'Adhemar, were imposed upon by a 
minister who, in appearance, and for form sake, feigned to second 
their endeavours, but who in reality overturned the structure, and 
brought it to the ground by his wily manoeuvres and contributed 
alone to extricate the cardinal from the disagreeable situation in 
which he was implicated. May a complete disgrace reward the 
former for his officiousness ! This is my ardent wish, and his 
enemies will not fail to accelerate it by their reiterated solicitations. 
But I resume the thread of my subject. 

" Notwithstanding all the instructions he had received, the 
ambassador could not, no more than myself, foresee a sentence such 
as has been awarded. He was the first to acquaint me with it, 
and at the same time hinted at plans which could not but turn 
greatly to my advantage, since they tended to give me an 
opportunity (which was the first wish of my heart, and for the ob- 
taining of which I exerted every nerve) of appearing before the 
Parliament, and entering upon my justification. His excellency 
further assured me, that I should meet with powerful friends, 
whose patronage would counterpoise all the credit and combined 
efforts of the house of Rohan. 

" As those projects were never called into execution, and as the 
supreme power, apprehensive of a minute explanation, pronounced 
the cardinal's fate, I thought it expedient, considering the promises 
made to me, to wait the ambassador's arrival, no ways doubting 
but that, in consequence of his account of my conduct throughout 
the whole business, some regard would be paid to it, and justice 
done me. But if the answer I expect from his excellency be not 
satisfactory — if my just demand be not acceded to, then I shall look 
upon myself as free to act, and demonstrate by a detail, equally 
true and well supported, by letters which I fortunately have in my 
possession, and which will corroborate my assertion, why Made- 
moislle d'Oliva was chosen by me to play a part for half an hour, 
not on the terrace, as was purposely given out, but in the interior 
of the garden of Versailles. The world shall be informed of the 
grand object of this rehearsal, as well as the catastrophe projected 
for the first night's representation, which, by-the-by, did not take 
place, on account of the principal performer having been warned, 
not indeed of aU the snares laid to entrap him, but secretly put on 



296 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

his guard, not to expose himself imprudently in places where he 
was liable to be surprised by his enemies, who would snatch at every 
opportunity to effect his ruin. It will appear that, in consequence 
of this caution, it was thought desirable to alter the plan, that it 
gave rise to the purchasing of the Necklace (for which I shall 
account in the clearest manner hy making special mention of its real 
owner, who made my wife a present of some of the most brilliant 
diamonds, which I sold in London as my propert}'^), and kept by 
much the more considerable part, which may be worn in different 
manners, without ever being known by the jewellers : and why ? 
By the concatenation of those circumstances, which happened 
pending the process, my wife and I were abandoned and inhumanly 
sacrificed. These illustrations will convince the public that 
certain caricature print-makers whom I know, and consequently 
despise, aimed at deceiving the judgment, and prepossessing them 
against me, by putting in my hand a Necklace, of which I had a 
very small share. 

" That the readers may have nothing to wish for, and in order 
to point out to them the causes of so tardy a revenge (which was 
hatching without success, ever since the death of Louis XV.), I be- 
gin my account at the era of the cardinal's embassy at Vienna, and 
trace every event that has taken place till the final decision of the 
famous affair. 

" I am not to be told that my memorial, if published, will, by 
the secret and curious anecdotes it contains, raise against me a 
host of powerful foes, who will not fail to seek for, and meet with, 
sufficient opportunity to wreak their vengeance on me. But what 
of that ? My intentions shall be fulfilled ; and, whatever be my 
fate, I shall have the comfort of having left behind me an authentic 
justification, and of having unveiled the whole of the intrigue. 
And who knows but I may be fortunate enough to hear one day 
or other, for the good of my country, that my memorial has opened 
the eyes of him who has been kept so long in the dark ! But for 
that I shall be told the memorial must not reach him, and all the 
avenues will be strongly beset. I am aware of it. But on the 
other hand, I shall observe that there exists a powerful party, 
whose interests it is to forward it, who have been long employed in 
working a mine, which only waits a favourable opportunity for ex- 



THE COUNT THEEATENS HIS JUST RESENTMENT. 297 

plosion. To hasten this, if my memorial has, as it were, the effects 
of a match, I shall look upon all the misfortunes I have en- 
countered as the path leading directly to that event, and shall 
think myself sufficiently rewarded for the injuries and persecutions 
I have experienced. 

"After this declaration, sir, I trust I shall be no longer re- 
proached with a timidity unknown to me ; and that, considering 
the infamous manner in which I have been treated, no one will 
blame my just resentment. 

" I am, very sincerely. Sir, 

" Your very humble servant, 

" Count DE LA MoTTE. 
«' No. 10, Charlotte Street, 

"Rathbone Place. "^ 

That this letter may not fail in its effect, it is again published 
in the same newspaper, two days afterwards, in the original French. 
One can well conceive that the mail-bags that day carried a goodly 
number of copies of the journal in question to the French capital, 
and there can hardly be a doubt but that the count's letter, 
coupled with the note which the Duke of Dorset had addressed to 
the English ambassador at the court of Versailles, and which had 
been communicated to the French government, created consider- 
able consternation among the party of the queen. 

* Morning Chronicle newspaper, December 29, 1786, 



298 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXXVII. 

Dec, 1786— June, 1787. 

mysterious hints given to the countess to effect her escape. 
she resolves on attempting it. 

It must have been about this time that hints were given to 
Madame de la Motte with reference to attempting to escape from 
her confinement. Her own version of the manner in which these 
hints were given is like most of her statements about herself, 
strongly tinged with the romantic ; still it is tolerably certain that 
hints of some kind or another were. given to her. She fixes the 
date when these overtures commenced not later than the begin- 
ning of December, 1786 ; but considering that she deferred her 
attempt to escape until July of the following year, we should be 
inclined to fix it at some later period, and certainly subsequent to 
the time when the French court were made acquainted with the 
letters just referred to. However, we will let her tell the story 
in her own words : 

" It was about the latter end of Novejnber or the commence- 
ment of December, 1786, that one of the soldiers, doing duty as 
sentinel in the court of the Salpetri^re, to see that the women 
made no holes in the dormitory to escape by the aqueducts, passed 
the end of his musket through a broken part of the wall and 
attempted to touch Angelica, who waited upon me as a servant, 
and who was sentenced to be confined for life in the Salpetriere. 
' What do you want with me 1 ' asked Angelica. ' Is not your name 
Angelica ? ' said he, softly ; ' are you not the person who waits upon 
Madame de la Motte 1 ' * Yes,' replied she. ' Very well,' said he ; 
' I heard many lords and ladies yesterday, in the Palais Royal, 
mention your name as being the person who is so attentive to her. 
Tell me if you want anything. I always carry about me an ink- 
stand, paper, &c., which I will furnish you with, as I know you 
have not permission to write. Prepare your letters, if you wish 
to write to anybody, and I will take charge of them.' 



A MYSTERIOUS LETTER. 



299 



" Angelica thanked him for his kindness, but frankly confessed 
she could neither read nor write, 

'"No matter/ replied he, 'there is your mistress, Madame de 
la Motte ; I would advise you to get her to write for you to the 
different ladies who come here, and beg her to recommend you to 
their goodness.' 

« Two days after this, about three in the morning, the same 
soldier again touched Angelica with his musket, and gave her a 
packet of gilt paper, a large bundle of quills, a bottle of ink, and 
a letter for herself. ' Madame de la Motte will read it to you,' 
said he. Next day Angelica brought me the letter, at every line 
of which I was struck with such astonishment that I could scarce 
believe my eyes. This mysterious letter was as follows : 

"Assure yourself. Mademoiselle Angelica, that I shall be ex- 
tremely happy if I can be instrumental in procuring your liberty. 
Command me, and believe that I shall seize every opportunity of 
being useful to you [and, immediately preceding the last line,] 
* Unfortunate, put this letter before the light— 'tis understood 
— be sure to be discreet.' 

" After having read to Angelica so much of this letter as con- 
cerned her, I made use of some pretext to send her to the dormi- 
tory, and the moment I was alone put the letter to the light, when 
writing began to appear as if by the power of magic. At length 
all was visible, and the following words astonished my eyes : 
. « « You are earnestly exhorted to keep up your spirits, and to 
take proper nourishment, that you may have sufficient strength to 
support the fatigue of your journey. People are now intent upon 
changing your condition. Speak your wishes, and mention the 
day you are willing to depart, that a post-chaise may be prepared, 
which yon will find at the corner of the king's garden. Be dis- 
creet ; 'tis your interest to be so. Confide implicitly in the bearer, 
without entertaining the smallest suspicion.' 

"Judge of my astonishment on perusing this mysterious paper ! 
Surely, said I to myself, I am awake, and in sober certainty of the 
truth of what I see. But who can be the persons who have thus 
interested themselves in my misfortunes 1 This singular expres- 
sion, ' It is understood,' was never used by any person but myself, 
the 'cardinal, and the queen. Perhaps they both, repenting of 



300 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

what they have done, ashamed of having the weakness to sufier me 
to be sacrificed, at this moment wish to give me liberty." 

To this letter Madame de la Motte tells us she wrote an answer 
to the efifect that she was anxious to escape from her confinement, 
and begged her unknown correspondent to aid her in the attempt. 
In due course, she received the following reply : 

•'People have reflected ; endeavour to procure the model of the 
key that will open easily that side where you wish to go out. Act 
for the best, and compose yourself." 

" For two months," she says, '' I laboured at the attempt, and 
at length succeeded in making two designs — one small and the 
other large — in which I thought I had fortunately delineated the 
wards of the key, and which, the moment I perceived to be perfect, 
I enclosed in a letter, which I gave to Angelica to convey to the 
soldier, who, about a fortnight afterwards, brought a key made ex- 
actly after the paper model. I had the patience to wait two whole 
days without sufficient resolution to make the experiment ; but on 
Sunday, between six and seven in the morning, when Angelica and 
myself were together in the gallery, the opportunity seeming 
favourable, with a trembling hand and palpitating heart I applied 
the key to the lock, when, gracious heaven ! what was my surprise 
and joy at finding the door open ! We both endeavoured as much 
as possible to conceal our emotions, and proceeded to try whether 
this same key would open the other three doors. In the afternoon 
of the same day I pulled off my shoes and crept softly along to the 
second door, which, to my great joy, was also obsequious to my 
touch. I shut it again, ascended the steps softly by three at a 
time, all in a tremble for fear of discovery, found, as I wished, all 
was fast and everything quiet. I then attempted to open the door 
on the other side of the gallery near the second dormitory. This 
I did with wonderful facility, and with as little trouble as I had 
opened the others."^ 

Strange to say that although, according to the countess's own 
account, she was in possession of the means of escape by the end 
of February (1787) at the latest, she took no steps to profit by them 
until three months afterwards, pretending that, in the interim, she 

^ "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself, " vol. ii. pp. 143-197. 
We suspect the whole of this key business to be fudge. 



THE COUNTESS WRITES TO THE BARON DE CRUSSOL. 301 

had been engaged in using her influence with persons of condition 
to procure the release of her attendant, Angelica, when all the 
while she had the means of releasing her in her own possession. 
However, the girl eventually obtains her pardon, and madanie has 
now leisure to attend to her own affairs. 

It was on the 1st of May that Angelica was set at liberty. On 
the 13th the countess, who has long since found means of carrying 
on communications with her former friends, sends a letter by the 
hands of " a young confidante" whom she has managed to gain 
over, to an old lover of hers, the Baron de Crussol, the same who 
procured the Count de la Motte his post in the Count d'Artois' 
body-guard, and who, with his brother, the Bailli de Crussol, were 
of the queen's set at Little Trianon. The baron played Basile in 
Beaumarchais' comedy, " The Barber of Seville," at the private 
theatre there, when Marie- Antoinette performed the part of Rosina. 
This letter, which is all love and tenderness, contains the custom- 
ary appeal of the De Yalois for pecuniary assistance. In the course 
of it the countess tells the baron that the Duchess de Duras, " dame 
du palais " to the queen, " a very virtuous and worthy woman," is 
going to pay her a visit next week, and then follows this character- 
istic passage : " I shall see her alone ; the public must not know 
of it, as it might get talked about on account of my being forbidden 
to see any one for fear I should speak" ^ To return, however, to 
the countess's narrative. " I reflected within myself," says she, 
" that if I should run the hazard of going out in the dress of the 
Salpetriere, I should be easily discovered in the event of being met 
by any of the sisters. I conceived also that a male habit would 
be more favourable for my escape, and communicated this to my 
unknown correspondent, to whom I wrote : 

" * I wish to have a large blue coat, a flannel waistcoat, black 
breeches, a pair of half-boots, a round high-crowned hat, to make 
me appear taller, a switch, and a pair of leather gloves.' 

" All these the guard brought me about ten or twelve days after ; 
he carried the great-coat under his cloak, the waistcoat in his 
pocket, and the switch in the barrel of his musket ; and about two 
nights after he brought the half-boots and a man's shirt. Thus 

^ "Lettres et Documents In^dits de Louis XVL et Marie- Antoinette," 
par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 171. 



302 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

furnished with wings for my flight, I was wholly intent on my 
game, and, what is not a little singular, without the least fear of 
not being able to effect my escape ; not one shadow of doubt pre- 
sented itself to my imagination, nothing gave me the least uneasi- 
ness ; I felt myself quite confident of success, and I found myself 
much happier than I had been for a long time. I reflected that I 
was under the immediate protection of the queen, and would not 
suffer myself to entertain a doubt that it was the queen herself, 
and no one else, who had taken this interest in my behalf 

" After a time, howeyer, a feeling of apprehension came across 
my mind and led me to suspect the sincerity of my unknown corre- 
spondent. Surely, I thought to myself, this cannot be a plot con- 
certed to lull me to security that I may afterwards be more easily 
got rid of It cannot be so ; they really wish to render me service,, 
there can be no doubt of it, since I have the key and the proper 
dress ; but whither will this post-chaise conduct me 1 — probably to 
some convent ; and does the queen suppose that I can be happy 
there ? I will never consent to go to a convent, and only to some 
place where I can be free — where I am at liberty. 

" About this time I was not a little surprised by a visit from M. 
de Crosne, lieutenant of police. About six o'clock one afternoon I 
was conducted to Sister Martha's apartment, where I saw M. de 
Crosne, with M. Martin, secretary, and another person who was a 
stranger. M. de Crosne at first did not' know me ; he appeared 
much surprised and affected to find me so reduced, so altered for 
the worse, and his sensibility deeply affected me. I read in his 
face, as in a mirror, how different I then was from what I had been 
when he formerly knew me. Afiliction had worn me down almost 
to a skeleton ; my eyes were languid and inanimate. [The countess 
used to pride herself on the killing effect of her eyes.] I was, as 
it were, but the fleeting shadow of what I had once been in the 
days of my prosperity. I stood for some moments unable to 
articulate a single syllable. At length, awaking from my reverie, 
I saluted him, when the amiable man kindly inquired if there was 
anything I was in want of, as if so, he would give the necessary 
orders. 

" At these words I quite lost myself, and forgetting every con- 
sideration that should have restrained me, I drew near him, and re- 



THE DUCHESS DE POLIGNAC VISITS ENGLAND. 303 

peated, * Want anything ? Oh, sir, it is too much to bear — that I 
should be thus confined !' M. de Crosne, greatly affected, would 
not suffer me to recite the melancholy catalogue of my woes, which 
I was entering into with all the energy that grief inspired. 

" I could not help thinking that M. de Crosne was sent hither 
expressly to see me, and the more I reflected upon this visit of his, 
the more suspicious I became. I began to see that they were 
fearful I should say too much, and that it was judged expedient 
rather to endeavour to soothe than drive me to extremities ; for if 
I had really any ill-will, any grudge towards tl;ie queen, I thought 
to myself, neither the Baron de Breteuil nor the lieutenant of 
police would take the pains to favour me with the slightest atten- 
tion." ^ 

It should be noted that it was at this period, namely, early in 
the month of May, that the Duchess de Polignac and her sister-in- 
law, the Countess Diane, went to England, ostensibly to drink the 
Bath waters, but really, it is believed, to come to terms with Count 
de la Motte through the medium of their intimate friend the 
Duchess of Devonshire.^ One may here quote a bit of court 
gossip contained in a letter dated Versailles, June 27, 1787, and 
written to Stanislaus Poniatowski, king of Poland, to the effect 
that, on the occasion of this visit, the Duchess de Polignac paid 
Count de la Motte four thousand louis for certain letters said to 
have been written by the queen. If there is any truth in the story, 
these were in all probability copies of the letters purporting to 
have been written by Marie- Antoinette, together with the cardinal's 
replies, and which were afterwards published in the Appendix to 

^ *'Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 205, 212. 

"" "Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland," vol. i. p. 420. 
There are certain discrepancies with respect to the date of the duchess's 
visit. Mr. Storer, writing to the Hon. Mr. Eden, on May 11, 1787, says, 
*' the Polignacs have arrived ; on Tuesday they went to the opera, " etc. In 
contradiction to this we have a letter written by Marie- Antoinette, and 
dated April 11, exactly a month previous, evidently addressed to the 
duchess while she was in England, and inquiring whether she had found 
any benefit from the Bath waters. It is possible that a wrong date has 
been affixed to the last-mentioned letter subsequently to its having been 
written, for Marie-Antoinette left most of her letters undated. See 
"Lettres et Documents In^dits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette," 
vol. i. 



304 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the Countess's Life.^ Of this visit of the Dachess de Polignac we 
shall again have occasion to speak. 

At length the countess takes her final resolution, and fixes upon 
some day between the Sth and the llth of June, either at eleven 
o'clock in the morning or six o'clock in the evening, for her escape. 
The arrangement was this : the guard was to disguise himself as a 
waggoner, and with a whip in his hand, was to walk round the 
King's garden (the Jardin des Plantes) at the times specified on 
each of the above-mentioned four days. The attendant who had 
succeeded Angelica, and whom the countess was obliged to take into 
her confidence,, begged that she might be permitted to accompany 
her. After some hesitation, the countess gave her consent. 

^ " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. ii. p. 157. 



THE COUNTESS SUCCEEDS IN ESCAPING. 305 



XXXVIII. 

1787. June— July. 

the c0unte33's escape. — a last visit to the neiahbourhood of 
bar-sur-aube. 

On the morning of the 11th of June, the last of the four appointed 
days, " Marianne and I, before our departure, took each of us a cup 
of coflfee to revive our spirits and give us courage. I then pro- 
ceeded to open the doors, three of which I fastened again with my 
key, and the fourth Marianne pulled towards her. Marianne, who 
knew the house perfectly well, took the shortest turnings she could 
find, believing that I was following her. I, however, managed to 
lose sight of her; nevertheless, I did not lose my courage, but 
passed on until I found myself in a large hall wherein were a great 
number of small beds in each of which was a child. After having 
cast my eyes round me, I inquired of the sisters the way out. I 
did not well understand the directions they gave me, but, after 
traversing many courts, found myself at length in a spacious court 
among a number of people who had come to gratify their curiosity 
with a sight of this prison. I followed a party who entered the 
chapel to view it, taking care to mix myself up with the rest of the 
company. After addressing a fervent prayer to heaven to inspire 
me with courage, I soon had the gratification of finding myself 
outside those doors which I had always looked on as impassable. 
Here I saw no one but the sisters, to whom I gave some money as 
though I were an ordinary visitor, and at length fortunately 
reached the high road. Here after some delay I discovered my 
good Marianne waiting for me near the river.^ 
** The King's garden was crowded with people, but I fortunately 

^ It was commonly believed at the time, that the authorities not only- 
connived at the countess's escape, but abetted it. It is said that at the 
moment of her departure from the Salp^trifere, the superior jokingly said to 
her, ''Farewell, Madame, take great care you are not remarked " (meaning 
also re-marked with the branding-iron). 

U 



306 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

managed to escape observation, and leaped into the boat to Mari- 
anne, who was already there with two strange gentlemen. Fearful 
of a discovery, I made signs to her not to speak to me. The two 
gentlemen wera seated ; but lest my awkwardness in my new habi- 
limsnts should be discovered, I remained standing. At length we 
gained the opposite bank, and upon our landing near the arsenal, 
that hideous place, the Bastille, opposed itself to my view. Mari- 
anne conducted me through byways and narrow streets until we 
fouud a hackney-coach which took us to Charenton. On arriving 
there we stopped at a bootmaker's to exchange my half-boots for a 
pair of shoes, after which we hired a cabriolet, which conveyed us a 
distance of seven leagues. We then alighted, and walked till half- 
past eleven o'clock at night. 

" We slept at a village called Maison-Rouge, and at six the next 
morning pursued our journey on foot till ten in the evening, when 
we stopped a few hours to repose ourselves. Here I inquired 
whether I could have a cabriolet. I could not, however, be thus 
accommodated. We were, therefore, obliged to take a cart, which 
conducted us about two miles from Provins. About five in the 
evening we stopped at the first cabaret and dined, and after dinner, 
fearful of being suspected by the marshalsea, I despatched Mari- 
anne to purchase women's apparel. She returned with a jacket of 
narrow-striped red cotton, an apron of the same stuff, a petticoat 
striped blue and white, a pair of leather shoes, such as are worn by 
peasants, and a pair of very small buckles. We departed from this 
inn at six the same evening. 

" The town of Provins was about sixteen leagues from Paris, but 
I did not judge it prudent to take the coach from here, there being 
no other conveyance besides the post, which I wished as much as 
possible to avoid. We proceeded towards the back of the town, 
where we met a great number of officers walking together, one of 
whom I overheard say : ' Oh ! there's a woman in man's clothes.' 
When they drew nearer they pulled off their hats, and begged per- 
mission to accompany me. One of these gentlemen's professions of 
service were so very profuse that I found it extremely difficult to 
engage him to desist from following me. 'You are,' said he, ' some 
young girl but just escaped from a convent, and your lover is cer- 
tainly near at hand waiting for you in a post-chaise.' ' If such is 



THE COUNTESS MEETS WITH A LOVER. 307 

your opiuion, sir,' replied I, ' it is very impolite of you to think of 
following me, particularly as you have no right to expect that I 
should confess to you, if you should be right in your conjecture.' 
At this he withdrew. I turned towards the left, under a hill, and 
not being able to find a place more retired, we concealed ourselves 
under a verdant recess, where a brook of water ran down towards 
the meadow. Here Marianne and I assumed our new disguise, 
which made us appear exactly like peasants, each of us holding in 
our arms a little basket of eggs, and a pound of butter neatly 
covered with a piece of linen, which was bought for that purpose. 
I threw my former apparel into the brook, putting stones into the 
coat pockets and the hat, that they might sink more easily, and 
that no trace of my flight might be discovered. We went five 
leagues on foot the same evening, and stopped, about eleven o'clock, 
at the first house of entertainment in the suburbs of Nogent,^ which 
is about two-and- twenty leagues from Paris. Here again I was so 
much fatigued that, after our supper, poor Marianne was obliged to 
put me upon her shoulders, and bring me into the cow-house, and 
lay me on the straw, for there was neither bed nor chamber. 

" The day after, about seven, we hired a cart, which conveyed us 
directly to Troyes, about nine leagues from Nogent, where we slept 
till four the next morning, when we again pursued our journey on 
foot. On our road we met a waggoner, who civilly asked us to get 
up into his cart, a proposal which we readily accepted. He con- 
veyed us to the town where he lived, about two leagues distant, 
but this honest rustic would receive no money;- he would have no 
other recompense than a promise of marriage, which I was con- 
strained to give him. I told him that I and my cousin Marianne 
had lived at Chaumont, in Champagne, and gave him a fictitious 
name and address. On parting with him we were fortunate enough 
to procure a farmer's cart, which took us to Vendeuvre, where we 
dined, and about two we set forward again in a covered carriage, 
which conveyed us seven leagues further. We passed through Bar- 
sur-Aube, and at six we were put down at a village about three 
leagues from there. 

^ Nogent-sur-Seine in the department of the Aube. 

^ It will be noticed that the countess makes no mention of how she 
obtained the necessary funds to undertake this journey. 



308 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

"When I arrived at this place I wrote letters to some of my hus- 
band's relations, with which I sent Marianne, who could not find 
many of the persons in whom I confided. She went to seek a friend 
of Madame de la Tour, sister of M. de la Motte, to whom she sent 
in my note. This lady immediately knew my writing, and ran to 
her wardrobe, and gave Marianne petticoats, shifts, handkerchiefs, 
with half a louis, which was all she had in her pocket, and greatly 
regretted that she had it not in her power to do more. She then 
accompanied her to M. de Suremont, M. de la Motte's uncle. This 
gentleman's wife, after having coldly received Mdlle. Charton, 
which was this young lady's name, and Marianne, refused to come 
and see me. M. de Suremont sent Marianne to desire me to meet 
him half way. A place was appointed, and it was about mid- 
night when we met. The night was extremely dark, and we sat 
down on the bank of a ditch. M. de Suremont appeared very glad 
to see me, but expressed his extreme regret that he could not accom- 
modate me with more than four louis, telling a very lamentable 
story that his buildings had cost him so much money, and that he 
was very much in debt. *But pray where are you going?' said he 
to me. ' I am going to London,' replied I, * for the English news- 
papers have for a long time mentioned my husband's name ; I dare 
say he is there.' "^ 

The countess makes no mention in her narrative of another of 
her Bar-sur-Aube friends coming to see her while she lay concealed 
in the stone quarries outside the town — the mother of young 
Beugnot, to whom, in her days of affluence, the countess had given the 
surplus of twenty louis for her poor pensioners. This noble-hearted 
lady came out at night to comfort the wretched wanderer whom 
she believed to be innocent, and gave her all the consolation which 
a pious mind could suggest in a case so deplorable, returned her 
the twenty louis with some addition of her own, and parted with 
her like a Christian sister.^ Such was the singular hold which this 
extraordinary woman seems to have had on the human heart, which 
began when she was a barefooted beggar on the public highway, 
and continued even when she was a branded outcast. 

" I did not," continues the countess, " consider it prudent to 

' "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. pp. 219-230. 
* *' M6moires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 43. 



HOSPITALITY ON THE PART OP STRANGERS. 300 

return to the same inn which we had quitted at midnight, as I 
feared our being suspected, or taken for thieves, with which all the 
environs of Chaumont are greatly infested, I therefore chose to walk 
the remaining part of the night. The moon, which was at full, 
made it extremely pleasant. We proceeded nearly a mile and a 
half, but had not advanced far into the forest before we determined 
to return again towards the town. We knocked at the first carbaret 
we came to, but the people not only refused to open the door, but 
threatened to shoot us, taking us, without question, for thieves. 
Shivering with cold, we were necessitated to take up our lodging 
on the steps of their door till the next morning, and at this season 
the nights were extremely cold, and the country wore almost the 
appearance of winter. About six in the morning three peasants 
and a woman passed by, who had two large dogs with them. I 
related to them our situation, and we traversed the forest together 
as far as Columbey, where we parted. Having breakfasted, we took 
the post, which conveyed us seven leagues further. At six the 
next morning we recommenced our journey on foot. The day was 
terribly hot, and we suffered severely in climbing the mountain, 
which is extremely steep, and very high, without any shelter from 
the intense heat. Marianne, who was very much troubled with 
shortness of breath, and incapable of proceeding any farther, sat down 
and wept bitterly till, fortunately, a good old peasant, who was on 
horseback, offered to take her behind him, to which she would not 
consent ; but, as his house was but a short distance, she agreed to 
take the good old man's arm, while I seated myself on the horse. 
Taking Marianne's bundle, I gave the reins to the horse, who 
brought me to the house before his master, where the old man's 
daughter, who was lately married, recognized the beast. I briefly 
related to her the circumstance which procured me the pleasure of 
seeing her, whereupon she despatched one of her sisters to the 
curate's house to fetch some fish, and some of the best wine from 
another neighbour. Marianne was also well received. We were 
afterwards presented to the husband ; and this good family lodged 
us with kindness. Not only did they regale us with a good supper 
of pigeons, and excellent fish, and delicious wine, but they accom- 
modated us with their own bed, where we slept soundly for six 
hours. After a good breakfast we departed at ten in their cart to 



310 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

reach Joinville, these good people refusing to receive a single 
sou for their entertainment. 

" The keeper of a carbaret where we had sought shelter from a 
violent storm consented to conduct us as far as Nancy ; and the 
rain having subsided, we availed ourselves of this proposal of our 
host, and continued our journey till we came into the midst of the 
most dismal forest I ever saw. It seemed a place pefectly adapted 
for the black business of robbery or murder. Here another terrible 
storm came on, and we travelled in the midst of a heavy shower 
for almost two hours and a quarter. It was now near ten o'clock, 
and we were still in a hollow, one side of which bordered another 
forest reputed to be most dangerous, and along the skirts of which 
our road lay for a distance of some miles. I could not but feel 
alarmed, and what added to my fears was, that I had not the least 
knowledge of that road. Our conductor was also a very ill-looking 
fellow, and his conduct was such, that though I cannot say he had 
really any bad design, yet his behaviour was sufficiently equivocal to 
make me suspicious. Aft.er a dreary ride of a couple of hours I 
discovered a light : it is impossible to express how welcome that 
discovery was, as it dispelled those apprehensions which the dark- 
ness of the night had made more terrible. Our guide now com- 
posed himself a little, and told me he was going to bait his horse, 
after which we might pursue our journey. '' Most certainly,' replied 
I ; but when we arrived at the inn, which was at about midnight, 
I determined to take some rest. 

" We sat down to supper, and I told our guide that we did not 
choose to expose om-selves any more that night, as his horse seemed 
to be so much fatigued. This determination did not seem agreeable 
to him ; he stormed and swore, but all to no purpose. ' I am 
determined,' said I resolutely, * not to proceed till six o'clock in the 
morning.' We did, indeed, set out an hour sooner, but then there 
was no danger ; though, when he put us down upon an eminence 
on the side of Nancy, I really thought he seemed to quit us with 
an air of regret at having failed of his prey. After having dined at 
Nancy, we took a voiture, which conducted us to Luneville, where 
we stopped and slept at the Hotel du Saint-Esprit, from whence the 
next morning I wrote to M. Aminot, my cousin, an officer in the 
gendarmes. I took the precaution not to sign my name to this 



THE COUNTESS IS VISITED BY A COUSIN. 311 

billet, in which I merely mentioned that a lady, one of his father's 
acquaintances, wished to communicate some news from his family. 
Upon the receipt of my billet he did not lose a moment, biit 
followed Marianne, who introduced him to my chamber. He ap- 
proached me : ' Really, madame,' said he, * I have not the honour 
to recollect you.' * Do you not know your unhappy cousin 1 ' said I. 
I could utter no more ; my sensations checked my tongue. He also 
appeared greatly astonished. 'Is it possible, my dear cousin,' 
said he, * that this can be you ? ' He then embraced me affection- 
ately, but his joy at meeting me could only be equalled by his sur- 
prise. The evening before my arrival, he had received letters from 
Paris, one of which he showed me, which mentioned my surprising 
escape from the Salpetriere, observing, that there were flying re- 
ports that the queen had facilitated my escape. My cousin and I 
spent two or three days together ; and as I communicated to him 
my desire to pass through Switzerland, though without explaining 
my motive, he gave me in writing the plan of my route, which 
was by Luxembourg. After this interval of rest, Marianne and I 
pursued our journey, at five in the morning, on foot. We went 
eleven leagues this day ; and the next, not being able to procure a 
coach, we were obliged to walk nine leagues further. After this 
fatigue I really was fearful that I should lose my companion, who 
was most violently attacked with asthma ; and for five days the 
physician and surgeon were doubtful of her recovery. As soon as 
Marianne was in a condition to support herself, we took a voiture 
for Metz, where we slept, and the next day departed for Thionville, 
about ten leagues from thence. The diligence put us down at the 
sign of the ' Three Kings,' kept by one Phillips." 

This inn appears to have been a regular place of resort for the 
officers quartered in the town, and the countess pretended that, 
owing to certain consequential airs she indiscreetly gave herself, her 
incognito was more than suspected by these gentlemen, who impor- 
tuned her with their visits and invitations to prolong her stay in 
the town, which of course only made her the more anxious to get 
away. 

" We proceeded on our journey," resumes Madame de la Motte, 
" and slept at Etauche ; and the next day we departed in a tilted 
carriage. My intention was to go into Switzerland, and to remain 



312 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

a short time at some frontier town, from whence I could write to 
M. de la Motte, conceiving this was the only chance of being- 
secure, and that Providence, which had so long guided and sup- 
ported me, now granted me my wish, and directed me to an hospit- 
able mansion inhabited by the most worthy, the most charitable of 
beings. " 

Here they stopped to bait their horses, and were pressed by the 
hostess to stay. " 'If, madam,' observed she, 'you have any fears 
of being upon French ground, instantly dismiss them ; nobody has 
any power over you here.' ' I have no fear,' replied I ; ' but I am 
in want of money, and wish to write to my family.' * Very well,' 
replied this good creature, * for that very reason I insist that you 
shall remain with me ; you can write from hence.' About two 
days after I wrote to M. de la Motte, under cover to Mr. McMahon, 
his friend in London, to which I received an answer in about ten 
days, to the effect that he would make inquiries for some proper 
person that he could trust, whom he would send to fetch us as 
soon as possible. Three weeks, however, passed away without any 
emissary from my husband. At this time my good hostess had 
no idea who I was : a report gained ground, and even reached the 
military society at Luxembourg, that there was a person at the 
house of Madame Schilss with a tall, stout girl, who perfectly 
answered the description of Madame de la Motte and the girl Ma- 
rianne. I w^as every day visited by a great number of officers, 
both old and young, then residing in the village, who constantly 
prefaced their visits with expressions of condolence, observing how 
very dull it must be for me to be alone in a place so destitute of 
amusement. The Chevalier de Curel, of a family at Langres, ap- 
peared to be one of those most officious in circulating the report 
that I was the Countess de la Motte, which made me tremble for 
the consequences, and I conceived that, by associating my hostess 
in my confidence, she might find some means of silencing these 
reports. I therefore trusted her, leaving everything to her discre- 
tion. This good lady rendered me very essential service ; for when 
persons came to make inquiries of her, she amused them with 
different stories, and at the same time enjoyed the most profound 
secrecy on every one of them. 

" These reports made me extremely unhappy, particularly as I 



ARRIVAL OF THE COUNTESS IN LONDON. 313 

had not received any further news from London, though the letter 
which I had received led me to hope that I should shortly have 
another to apprise me of the day when somebody would come to 
fetch me. At length, about the 27th of July, in the afternoon, a 
lady and gentleman came to inquire for me. Madame Schilss, in- 
formed that I had been long in expectation of some persons from 
England, was very well pleased. She introduced them as persons 
she could trust, and my own confidence was increased when the 
lady presented me with a letter from M. de la Motte." 

Accompanied by this lady, who proved to be Mrs. McMahon, 
Madame de la Motte travelled first of all to Brussels and from 
there to Ostend, whence, after a forty-two hours' passage, the pair 
arrived safe at Dover. 

" At seven we took the route for London," continues Madame de 
la Motte, " where we arrived at seven the next morning, and at 
nine my eyes were greeted by the sight of M. de la Motte. It is 
not my intention," remarks the countess in her most sentimental 
vein, "to attempt to describe those mutual transports which 
glowed in either bosom at this interview. The situation, the cir- 
cumstances of the parties, will raise corresponding emotions in the 
bosom of sensibility which will convey my idea more strongly than 
all the pomp of diction that may captivate the ear, but not impress 
the soul."^ 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 230, et seq. 



314 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XXXIX. 

Aug. 1787— April, 1789. 

in london. the countess gives up forgery and 

takes to calumny. 

" I REMAINED a fortnight," continues Madame de la Motte, *' at 
the house of Mrs. McMahon, in the Haymarket, without venturing 
abroad to take the air, fearing lest I should be discovered. Every 
coffee-house in the neighbourhood of this place was filled with per- 
sons, many of whom were foreigners, eager to gratify their curiosity 
by seeing me. To prevent the inconvenience of being stared and 
pointed at, my friend, Mrs. McMahon, contrived to take me out 
about nine or ten o'clock in the evening." 

The countess tells us that she found her husband in great dis- 
tress, waiting impatiently the moment when his unfeeling uncle 
and aunt. Monsieur and Madame de Suremont, would send over 
such property of his as remained in their hands. The count had 
not long to wait, it appears, for the De Suremonts arrived in Lon- 
don a few days after Madame de la Motte, when they delivered to 
him a "ring, which had formed the stud of the Necklace ; a watch- 
chain which," says the count, " I sold for fifty pounds sterling ; 
and a box I had taken in exchange, and which I sold to Gray for 
sixty pounds. Restoring these three articles, they told me that 
they were all they had been able to preserve of our jewels. Having 
had full leisure to invent these falsities, and persuaded that I could 
not have been informed of their conduct and the depredations they 
had committed on my property, they spared no pains to convince 
me of the truth of what they said, which would indeed have ap- 
peared reasonable had my intelligence not been so well founded. 

'' Affecting to be satisfied with what they had delivered to me, 
I, the same day, procured a writ to be issued, hoping thereby to 
frighten them into a surrender of the remaining jewels ; but they 
imagining, from the inquiries they had made, and the advice they 



THE COUNTESS RECOVERS SOME OP HER JEWELLERY. 315 

had received, that I could not by any means molest them, pre- 
tended to show' the utmost indignation at my conduct, and finally 
declared that they had nothing left belonging to me; that they had 
sold every article ; and that, could they have foreseen the ingrati- 
tude I now evinced towards them, they would have given up all my 
jewels to the government. 

" Judging from their resolute tone that something more than 
words was requisite to bring them to a sense of justice, I insisted 
no farther, but, urged by necessity, put the writ into the hands of 
a sheriffs officer, who soon after, though much to my regret, 
arrested my uncle, a man of property, childless, enjoying the first 
offices in the place of his residence, and possessing the esteem of 
all its inhabitants, and whom I really respected. The case was 
otherwise with his beloved consort, a despicable woman, detested 
by all who knew her, who, I am certain, had prevailed upon her 
husband to be guilty of such a piece of meanness and injustice. 
The moment she saw him arrested she came to mo, urging my ac- 
ceptance of bills to the amount of my claims, still assuring me she 
had nothing of mine, and that she was going to part with some of 
her own property to purchase her husband's release. Finding she 
could not make me accede to the terms she proposed, she ended 
by acknowledging everything, and departed to fetch what she had 
asserted upon oath had been surrendered to government. 

" On her return she gave up two rings that had belonged to the 
-Necklace, a pair of drop earrings (out of which she had taken four 
diamonds, which I only perceived after we parted), a hoop ring, a 
neck-button, a hair-ring, set round with stones, and another ring 
of small value. The day after this forced restitution my relations 
returned to their own home, where they have shared the remainder 
of the spoil ; I have not heard of them since, excepting being in- 
formed, in a circumstantial manner, of all the havoc they have 
made in my house at Bar-sur-Aube, and of the contempt they have 
drawn upon themselves by their behaviour to me.^ 

The count informs us that he sold the articles which he so for- 
tunately recovered to Gray the jeweller, who, spite of the part he 
took in the Necklace trial, was still ready enough to buy any more 

* " M^moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 210. 



316 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

diamonds that the De la Mottes had to sell. The amount which 
the count received for these trinkets — all that remained to them of 
the famous Necklace — was two thousand two hundred pounds, a 
mere per-centage on the sixty thousand pounds at which the match- 
less jewel was originally valued, but still a nice enough little sum 
of money for people in a " hard-up " condition. True, it would not 
go very far in supporting even an approach to that state to which 
the De la Mottes had accustomed themselves, and which the hard 
fare and dismal cells of the Salpetriere had not entirely destroyed 
madame's taste for. Unfortunately " some people having learned 
that the count's relations had brought him nearly sixty thousand 
livres' worth of diamonds, eager to share the spoil, swore false 
debts against him. I myself," says madame, " saw him arrested 
five times for different sums. M. de la Motte's attorney availed 
himself of this, and advised him, to use his own expression, to rid 
himself at once of these troublesome scoundrels by giving a gra- 
tuity of two hundred louis to one and one hundred and fifty louis 
to another, while eighty louis were given to an attorney who had 
never once appealed to the laws in favour of his unfortunate client, 
from whom he had frequently received different sums to extricate 
him from real or fictitious embarrassments." 

Such being the state of affairs means have to be found to re- 
plenish the almost empty exchequer. The count has recourse, no 
doubt, to the gaming-table, for all his life he has been an invete- 
rate gambler. The countess, on whom her sentence has had this 
wholesome effect, it had cured her of her propensity for forgery and 
theft, bethinks herself that calumny, if the envenomed shaft be 
only skilfully aimed, might yield a golden prize. This contem- 
plated slandering of the queen " was an arrow I still preserved," 
says Madame de la Motte, " as the best in my quiver, resolving to 
threaten, but not to shoot till reduced to the very last extremity."^ 
In pursuance of this resolution, rumours are wafted abroad — care 
being especially taken that they shall cross the Channel and pene- 
trate to the royal apartments at Versailles — to the effect that the 
Countess de la Motte is engaged in writing her " Memoires," — the 
very titles of the chapters of which she had managed to get pub- 

^ *' Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 26. 



NEW NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE DUCHESS DE POLIGNAC. 317 

lished in the English newspapers, — wherein she intends to give " an 
exact detail of the extraordinary events which contributed to raise 
her to the dignity of confidant and favourite of the Queen of 
France, with some further particulars relative to the mysterious 
transaction of the Diamond Necklace."^ 

If Count de la Motte is to be believed, the Duchess de Polignao 
made at this period a second visit to England, again "to drink the 
Bath waters." Our opinion, however, is that, either by accident or 
design, he has put forward the date of the visit (which it is quite 
certain the duchess made early in May, returning to France at the 
end of June) ^ for upwards of a month ; for Madame de la Motte, 
according to her own statement, did not arrive in England until 
the early part of August. Either the case is as we have suggested, 
or else the countess arrived in England more than a month earlier 
than she represents herself to have done. Supposing this to be 
the fact, the visit of the duchess now alluded to would be the 
same visit of which we have already spoken.^ The count in his 
autobiography states that, soon after his wife arrived in London, 
he received a message from the Duchess of Devonshire (the beautiful 
Georgiana), begging him to call upon her at Devonshire House. 
The count goes there, and on being introduced into the drawing- 
room is presented to the Duchess de Polignac and her sister the 
Countess Diane, who observe to him that, having come over to 
drink the Bath waters, and having heard that Madame de la Motte 
proposed publishing some memoirs, they thought they might per- 
haps be of service to her — in other words, might save her from 
fresh persecutions, and insure her the means of an honourable ex- 
istence for the future. 

On the count communicating all this to his wife, she immedi- 
ately resolved, he says, to leave London with the least possible de- 
lay, for she feels certain that the intention is to kidnap her and 
take her back to the Salpetriere, and threatens she will throw her- 
self into the Thames if her husband will not leave London with her 
that very day. The count, knowing that she was quite capable of 

^ •* Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself " (see title-page). 

2 " Correspondance Secrete Li6dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. ii. p. 155. 

3 See ante, p. 303. 



318 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

carrjing out her threat, wrote to the Duchess of Devonshire, ex- 
plaining his wife's fears, and informing the duchess of her resolu- 
tion. De la Motte, in answer to the Abbe Georgel's assertion that 
Madame de Poliguac bought the MS. of the " Memoires," affirms 
that at this time not a line of them was written, and never would 
have been written, had it not been for M. de Calonne (madame's 
old friend and ex-controller-general), who called a few days after- 
wards and suggested that the "Memoires" should be at once 
written, so as to profit by the offer of the queen. With this view he 
introduced to them a M. de la Tour, a writer in the Courrier de 
V Europe to throw their rough notes into shape ; and in conse- 
quence the countess at once set to work, and produced her 
celebrated " Memoires Justificatifs." Supposing this statement 
to be true, the chances are, that the Duchess de Polignac, in the 
settlement she made with the De la Mottes, provided for these 
memoirs never seeing the light. In one of those letters of court 
gossip, from which we have made frequent quotations, it is ex- 
plicitly stated that Madame de Polignac was assured that " these 
writings would not appear." The queen, who was no doubt grati- 
fied at the success which she believed had attended the Duchess's 
negotiations, had all the apartments of the latter newly furnished 
at her own expense just before the duchess's return from her 
mission, and went, accompanied by the king^^ to sup with her on 
the evening of her arrival.^ One can plainly see that the spirit 
which pervades this book of Madame de la Motte's was prompted 
by an axiom of which she is herself the author, and which is to be 
found in the second volume of her "Life." ^^ No calumny, says she, 
" is so certain to he believed as that which one woman propagates 
against another"^ In the midst of the long string of infamous 
slanders in these so-called Justificatory Memoirs, with which the 
writer has sullied for all time the name of a noble-hearted, if some- 
what erring woman, there occurs this passage : " If the Queen of 
France were not what she is, should I have been to her what a de- 
fenceless bird is in the iiands of a froward child, who, after being 
amused with it for a few moments, strips it of its feathers one by 

^ " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette, " 
etc., vol. ii. pp. 157, 166. 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 412. 



CALONNE AND THE "MEMOIREa JUSTIFICATIFS." 319 

one, and then throws it into the destructive talons of a devouring 
animal ? " Most people, after reading these " Memoires Justi- 
ficatifs," will be inclined to reverse the application of the above 
simile, and will look upon poor Marie- Antoinette as the defenceless 
bird, and seek for the devouring animal, with its destructive talons, 
in Jeanne de St. Remi de Valois. 

When the MS. of these " Memoires " was completed, it was sent 
to M. de Calonne, who, according to the count, altered it to suit 
his own purposes. Madame says that the ex-minister even added 
indecent expressions against the queen — his aim being to get re- 
called to France and to secure the restoration of the blue ribbon of 
which he had been deprived. With this object in view, armed 
with the De la Motte libel, the ex-minister writes to Versailles, 
offering terms. The queen, however, rejects his proposal with dis- 
dain. Calonne now desires to have the MS. printed without delay, 
and for this purpose orders type and presses to be sent to the 
house where the De la Mottes reside, so that the work may be done 
in all secrecy. 

During its progress, the ex-controller-general seems to have 
carried on an intrigue of another kind with the countess, and one 
which was, moreover, so notorious as to be openly referred to in 
the scandalous publications of the time.^ He used to twit her 
about the branding she had received, and on one occasion, when the 
countess was boasting in a large assembly of the capital hand she 
held at picquet, he spitefully observed she had better be careful, 
or she would certainly be marlced? Some little misunderstanding 
which occurred between the pair made them thenceforth at daggers- 
drawn with each other. 

Just about this time, a new ambassador from the French court 
arrives in England — the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother of the 
Bishop of Langres, the countess's early patron, and reputed lover. 
He has heard of Calonne's proceedings, and loses no time in send- 
ing an envoy to the De la Mottes, to point out to them that 
Calonne will be certain to play them false, and to make arrange- 
ments for an interview. Calonne gets scent of what is going on, 

^ See " Julie Philosophe, ou le Bon Patriote," vol. ii. p. 17. 
=" " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVL, Marie -Antoinette, " 
etc., vol. ii. p. 237. 



320 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and tries to carry off the MS., but does not succeed. The inter- 
view with the ambassador takes place ; Count de la Motte shows 
M. de Luzerne the MS., with Calonne's corrections and interlinea- 
tions, and it is arranged that the ambassador shall make a de- 
finitive proposition so soon as he has received instructions from 
Paris. Calonne hears of this interview, goes to the De la Mottes, 
and demands the restitution of the MS. ; threatening all the 
terrors of the law if they do not comply. The count remains 
firm, and madame, by the aid of an English naval officer, who sub- 
sequently translated her " Memoires " into English, shows up the 
ex-French minister of finance in a pamphlet, which she styles, *' A 
Scourge for Calonne," and which goes off like wildfire, copies 
fetching as much as six louis each in Paris on its first appearance.-^ 
The Marquis de la Luzerne, having received his instructions, 
communicates them to the count. He is commissioned to make 
an offer of ten thousand livres a year, with fifty thousand livres 
down, to enable the De la Mottes to discharge their more press- 
ing debts. The countess, according to her husband's account, 
is opposed to accepting this very liberal offer, talks very big about 
her position before the world, clearing her character, &c. ; the 
count, however, thinking that the solid pudding is to be pre- 
ferred to all this, over-persuades his wife, and they give their 
acquiescence. The money is to be speedily forthcoming ; but, un- 
fortunately, one of those proverbial slips b&tween the cup and the 
lip now chances. Cardinal- Archbishop Lom^nie de Brienne is dis- 
missed from his office of prime minister, and M. Necker is sum- 
moned to occupy his place, and M. Necker will have nothing what- 
ever to do with a De la Motte negotiation in any shape or form. 
Such is the count's version of this affair of the " Memoires," but, 
like everything else from the De la Motte mint, it must be re- 
ceived with suspicion.^ 

When or how the MS. of these " Memoires," of Madame de la 
Motte's was sold to the French court, we have no means of ascer- 
taining ; but that it was sold, and that after the sale the 
" Memoires " were published in breach of good faith, is a moral 
certainty. In all probablity the Duchess de Polignac negotiated 

' " Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland," vol. i. p. 304. 
* " Memoires In^dits du Comte de la Motte," par L. Lacour. 



THE DE LA MOTTE MEMOIRS CORRECTED BY CALONNE. 321 

the purchase, which was likely enough carried out through the 
medium of the French ambassador, the statement about M. Necker 
being a falsehood concocted to conceal the fact of any sale of the 
MS. taking place. Madame Campan asserts, in the most solemn 
manner, that she herself had seen, "in the queen's hands, a 
manuscript of the infamous memoirs of the woman Lamotte, which 
had been brought to her from London, and which were corrected 
by the very hand of M. de Calonne in all those places where a 
total ignorance of the usages of the court had made this wretch 
commit the most palpable errors."^ 

In the doubtful Lamballe Memoirs this Princess is represented 
as giving a most circumstantial account of her having become the 
purchaser of a printed copy of Madame de la Motte's " Memoires 
Justificatifs " corrected by the hand of M. de Calonne, and of the 
existence of which she was first made acquainted by a letter 
addressed to her by Sheridan. This occurred immediately subse- 
quent to a visit paid by her to England where she went on two 
occasions — once during July 1787,^ and a second time in June 
1791.^ On the receipt of the work in question she delivered it, 
she says, to the queen, who at once brought it beneath the notice 
of Louis XVI. in proof of Calonne's villainy. Had the princess's 
narrative stopped here we might have felt disposed tb put faith in 
it, but, unfortunately for its claims to be regarded as authentic, it 
goes on to say that the king forthwith indignantly ordered 
Calonne to resign his portfolio, and tha,t the minister begged per- 
mission to return it to the king with his own hands. On this re- 
quest being granted, the book was produced, and a scene ensued 
which ended in the king leaving the room, and Calonne falling 
upon his knees before Marie-Antoinette and imploring her to 
pardon him.^ Now as Calonne was dismissed from office, and 
exiled from Paris in April 1787, three months before the Princess 

"^ "Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 
107-8. 

^ " Correspondance Secr6te Inddite sur Louis XVI. Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol. ii. p. 163. 

3 " La Princesse de Lamballe : Sa Vie— Sa Mort," p. 246. 

'^ *'M6moires relatifs k la Famille Royale de France," vol. i. p. 315, 
et seq. 

Z 



322 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

de Lamballe's first visit to England, and more than four years be- 
fore her second, and was never called upon to serve the king after- 
wards, and as moreover Madame de la Motte's first libel, her 
"Memoires Justificatifs,' was not printed until 1789, it is quite 
certain that there is not a particle of truth in the above narrative, 
which induces us to believe that the so-called " Memoires relatifs 
a la Famille Royale de France " claiming to be based on a private 
journal of the Princess de Lamballe's, are, like many other 
pretended Memoirs of the time, nothing more than a clumsy 
forgery. 

Madame de la Motte herself indirectly admits that it was the 
desire of pecuniary gain rather than any particular anxiety to 
" clear her character before the world," which induced the publica- 
tion of her "Justificatory Memoir." "My husband," says she, 
" standing on the very brink of ruin " — they had received since 
they had been in England two thousand two hundred pounds for 
their diamonds, and at least as much more we should suppose for 
the MS. of the " Memoires," so that if this statment is true, they 
must have dissipated between four and five thousand pounds in 
the course of a couple of years — " was necessitated to have re- 
course to printing my 'justification' as the only means of satisfy- 
ing the craving demands of his creditors, whom he was obliged to 
avoid, as they made every effort to arrest him ; while I, with 
misery like a vulture gnawing at my heart, and poverty chasing 
even at my very heels, detesting that burden of life which it is yet 
my duty to support, and, God forgive me ! cursing the hour of my 
birth, remained defenceless — unable to protect myself from insult, 
or to ward oflf the blows which malice aimed at my reputation. 

" M. de la Motte printed five thousand ' M6moires ' in French 
and three thousand in English, confident, from the advice he had 
received, that the queen would not suffer them to be published, 
though I constantly represented to him the absurdity of this be- 
lief. . . . How could he hope the government would make terms 
with us, when they knew that the original MS. of the ' Memoires ' 
was in the possession of M. de Calonne, who could make it public 
whenever he thought proper ? ^ It never accorded with my senti- 

^ Husband and wife here contradict each other point blank. The count 
in his posthumous ** Memoires " maintains that the MS. was not surrendered 



BARGAINING ABOUT THE MEMOIRSr 323 

msnts," continues the countess, "to enter into any pecuniary 
negotiations with the government ; the only thing I had at heart 
was the vindication of my honour ; and, had I been left to my own 
discretion, neither sceptres nor crowns should have purchased my 
silence." 

This was a safe enough reservation, as neither sceptres nor 
crowns were likely to be ofifered even to a descendant of the house 
of Valois ; but we question whether madame could have withstood 
the temptation of a certain number of billets of the bank of France, 
had these been tendered to her, for times were hard with the De 
la Mottes, and it was necessary above all things to " put money in 
the purse." At any rate, she would have promised to keep silence, 
would have taken the money, and then have broken her word. 

It must be remembered that all the time this bargaining is go- 
ing forward for the sale and purchase of these wretched libels, 
Paris — nay, France itself — 'is in a state of ferment, what with the 
meeting of its states-general, the quarrels of its first and third 
orders, the braving of the royal authority, the dismissal of Necker : 
with troops constantly under arms, riots out of which bloodshed 
arises in the streets, the tocsin sounding from all steeples, attacks 
upon the prisons, the states-general in permanent session, to be 
followed ere long by the storming and capture of the Bastille — in 
other words, a Revolution ! 

to Calonne ; the countess says it was—in all probability another falsehood, 
concocted by her, to induce the public to believe that the MS. had not 
been already sold to the French court. 



324 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XL. 

April, 1787— May, 1792. 

the count hawks the libels abroad. is imprisoned in la 

force and the conciergerib. the last of the de la 

motte libels. 

Count db la Motte, having circulated copies of his wife's 
"Memoires Justifioatifs " among the London booksellers and in 
other directions, and being, as usual, involved in debt, thinks it 
prudent to make an excursion to Holland, where he believes some 
business in these libels may be done ; for it is, reasons he, just as 
easy to smuggle copies of them into France over the Flemish 
frontier as across the British Channel, and we i^U know that 
Mynheer has never been particular as to the character of the 
wares he trades iu. To Hollaq.d, therefore, the count goes in the 
month of April, 1789, In tracing his career from this date we 
have but few materials to guide us beyond his own posthumous 
*' Memoires,"^ which abound in evident exaggerations, and no less 
evident falsehoods. The reader is therefore cautioned to accept 
the count's statements with the same reserve which we have al- 
ready asked of him in respect to njany of the assertions of the 
countess. Truth would seem to have held no place in the De la 
Motte system of morals. 

Before the count hail brought his negotiations respecting an 
edition of his wife's " Memoires " to a close, news comes across the 
Low Countries of a rising of the people of Paris and the fall of the 

" " Memoires In^dits du Comte de la Motte-Valois," Paris, 1858. This 
work, edited by M. Louis Lacour, is stated by him to have been printed 
from a duplicate copy of the manuscript Memoires written by M. de la 
Motte in 1825, at the instigation of the French minister of police. Every- 
thing referring to the Necklace affair had been abstracted from these 
manuscripts while they were in possession of the authorities. See 
post, p. 366 



MIDNIGHT MEETING OP THE COUNT WITH MIRABEAU. 325 

Bastille. The count forthwith be rows fifteen louis from one of his 
Dutch acquaintances, with whose daughter he has been flirting up 
to a point that her father speaks seriously to him of matrimony, 
and hurries off to Paris, where he arrives on the 18th of August. 
He at once addresses himself to Bailly, the newly-elected mayor, 
from whom he asks a safe-conduct until the judgment against him 
in the Necklace affair can be brought before the new tribunals. 
He next has an interview with Mirabeau, who, he says, had already 
heard of his arrival, and informed the Duke d'Orleans of it, telling 
the duke at the same time they might reckon upon the count join- 
ing them in the attack which they contemplated making upon the 
" Austrian she-wolf " (Marie- Antoinette). The count thereupon 
calls on the duke, who proposes to him that he shall present a 
petition at the bar of the National Assembly, and subsequently 
supplies him with funds through Mirabeau. 

The count tells a mysterious story of some unknown individual 
calling upon him at this period, and making an appointment for 
him to be, between twelve and one o'clock at night, in the Avenue 
de Paris, at Versailles, near the iron railings of the chateau, where 
he would find Mirabeau, disguised in a long blue cloak and round 
hat. The count keeps the appointment, and meets with Mirabeau 
as described, and receives from him a form of petition, which he is 
to copy out by six o'clock in the morning, and then return the 
original draft. Mirabeau, he says, called at his hotel at the time 
named, when he handed him the copy of the petition, and pre- 
tended that the draft was destroyed, pointing at the same time to 
some fragments of burnt paper in the grate, as proof of the fact. 
Out of this draft petition, in Mirabeau's handwriting, the count 
sees his way to make some money. Without loss of time he takes 
it to M. de Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, informs him of 
the nature of the intrigue w^hich is going on, and explains who 
are the prime movers in it. By this means he gains over the 
minister, who is, of course, all affability, and speaks to him of the 
offer made some time back by M. de la Luzerne, which offer, he says, 
he is quite prepared to carry out. From this moment the count is 
in clover ; for he obtains bribes from both parties, each of whom he 
of course sells to the other. After a time, matters being considered 
ripe, Mirabeau urges him to come to the bar of the National 



325 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Assembly, and present his petition; but this the count is indisposed 
to do. He pretends, therefore, that he has consulted two advocates, 
both of whom advise him that the Assembly is not competent to 
deal with his case, and so manages to shuffle out of the affair, 
thereby however cutting himself adrift from the Orleans party. 

Count de la Motte, it seems, has an old score to clear off with 
Father Loth for what he professes to regard as his contemptible 
betrayal of the countess in the Necklace affair. He ascertains that, 
as a reward for his treachery, the De Rohan family have got Loth 
appointed one of the brotherhood of the Knights of Malta, with 
comfortable quarters in the Temple. To the Temple, therefore, the 
count hies, armed with a stout club, with which he proposes knock- 
ing out poor Father Loth's brains. " I know not," says the count, 
" whether he was warned, or whether he recognised me wandering 
about the Temple, but the fact is he quitted the place abruptly, 
and I could never find out what became of him ;" a lucky result for 
Father Loth, who thereby preserved his customary modicum of 
brains in an uncracked skull. 

The famous march of women to Versailles took place at this 
period, and the Paris papers announced that Madame de la Motte 
led the column of Moenades, who went to storm the chateau. This 
W2i8 a piece of pure invention, for the countess was still residing in 
England, where, according to the count, overtures were from time 
to time made to her by the agents of the Duke d'Orleans. M. de 
Montmorin, hearing of this, proposes furnishing an apartment for 
the countess, and providing her with funds to come to Paris, so 
that she may be beyond the duke's influence ; but the countess, 
having a wholesome dread of the branding-iron, and fearing that a 
" C " (calomniatrice) might be added to the " V " (yoleuse) which 
already graced her shoulders, and having, too, the terrors of the 
Salpetriere before her eyes, prefers remaining where she is, spite of 
Orleanist agents and other ills by which she is beset, a resolution 
which, as we shall presently see, proved most unfortunate for her. 

Some short time after the receipt of the countess's letter wherein 
slie expresses the above determination, news reaches the count of a 
most frightful accident having befallen his wife, and almost im- 
mediately afterwards comes a long letter from herself, written on 
her bed of suffering, corroborative of the dismal intelligence. The 



THE COUNT LEARNS THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE. 327 

count — who is openly living with a notorious courtesan of the 
period, la belle impure Seymour, as she was styled^ — takes the 
matter very coolly ; writes, no doubt, a short sympathizing note in 
reply, but as for hastening to the bedside of his dying wife, to watch 
beside it even for a few hours, and speak to her those few kind 
words of comfort which might have helped to assuage her sufferings 
and lighten the gloom of her departing moments, this never enters 
into the man's thoughts. The summer days pass pleasantly enough 
with him ; he can lounge in the Palais Royal gardens in the morn- 
ing, and in the Palais Eoyal gambling saloons at night, and it is 
only from the hawkers in the streets that he gains intelligence of 
his wretched wife's death. Hearing the news shouted oat on the 
boulevards, he buys one of the broadsides and turns into a neigh- 
bouring cafe to read it, takes it all for granted, and, so far as we can 
discover, troubles himself no further on the subject. 

Deprived of his helpmate, the miserable woman on whose men- 
dicancy, vices and crimes he had lived from the very day that he 
married her, the count has now to labour single-handed against the 
government, and after a time against society itself, for the means 
of subsistence. He obtains an audience of M. Duport du Tertre, 
minister of justice, whom he presses with reference to a rehearing 
of the process against him in the Necklace affair, and from whom 
he asks, and eventually obtains, a letter Wester a droit, which con- 
fers the right of appearing before a court of law sjjite of the judg- 
ment of the Parliament of Paris, still hanging over him. Of course 
if the count can get the case reheard, and the judgment set aside, 
all the De la Motte property seized at Bar-sur-Aube would be 
restored to him. Duport du Tertre was by no means opposed to 
this course, for though a minister of the crown, he sympathised 
with that party who wished to bring Marie- Antoinette before the 
new tribunals with reference to her share — ^for they persisted in 
believing her to have had a share^in the Necklace transaction.^ 
Meanwhile, by some skilful manoeuvring of his own, the count is 
brought into communication with M. de Laporte, intendant of the 
civil list, keeper, in fact, of the king's privy purse, who, he says, 

^ " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- Antoinette," 
etc., vol, ii p. 481. 

2 " Histoire de Marie- Antoinette, " par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 293. 



328 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

tells him that the king, having heard so good an account of his 
opinions, and conduct, and devotion to his person, has accorded him 
a certain credit on the civil list, and has commanded Laporte to 
say that justice shall certainly be done him in the Necklace affair. 
And as a sort of earnest of what the count is to expect in future, 
M. de Laporte at parting places in his hand a sealed packet, con- 
taining two thousand four hundred francs in assignats. 

Time wears on, the troubles of the court increase, and the flight 
of the royal family from Paris is decided on. The count asserts 
that it was arranged for him to accompany an old friend of his, ex- 
mayor of Lyons, in a carriage, in which a large amount of specie 
was to have been stowed away, and that they were to have kept a 
short distance ahead of the royal party. For some reason not 
given, this arrangement, which we do not believe w' as ever made, is 
not carried out. 

The count, with whom the revision of the Necklace process has 
become a fixed idea, persistently bores the minister of justice to order 
a rehearing before one of the new courts, and in November, 1791, by 
the king^s direction, according to the coimt, a sort of council is 
held, at which M. Duport du Tertfe presides, when it is decided 
that the count shall appeal to the third tribunal. The president 
of this is a certain M. de Plane — believed to be amenable to court 
influence, — w^ho, the count tells us, fought by the side of his father 
at the battle of Minden, and promises to do all he can to assist the 
son of his old comrade. 

No sooner is this decision arrived at than the count obtains one 
thousand crowns from Laporte, who asks him to call upon him at 
the Tuileries that Overling. The count goes, and to his astonish- 
ment finds himself in the presence of the king. His first move- 
ment, he tells us, is to throw himself at his sovereign's feet. On 
his rising, the king informs him that, from what he has heard, 
and the good opinion which he has himself formed of him, he has 
decided to grant him all that he asks. He then inquires of the 
count w^hether he happens to have with him the original draft of 
the petition drawn up by Mirabeau. Of course, the count has 
brought his portfolio, and instantly produces the document in 
question. " Le miserable ! " exclaims the king, " he deserved his 
fate ; " which observation of his majesty satisfies the count 



THE COUXT ESCAPES CREMATION AT LA FORCE. 329 

Louis XVI. was not ignorant that Mirabeau had been poisoned. 
The son of the Chevalier of St. Louis, and former gendarme at 
Luneville, having declared to his sovereign that he was ready to 
shed his last drop of blood for him, now makes his obeisance, and 
retires from the royal cabinet. 

On January 4, 1792, Count de la Motte, having taken the pre- 
caution to go the day beforehand to La Force, and choose his cell 
just as a man might engage the most convenient vacant room at 
an hotel, proceeds to constitute himself a prisoner. His apartment 
being somewhat damp, he orders a large fire to be made, and retires 
to rest for the night, but is, by-and-by, aroused from his sleep by 
a sense of suffocation. Springing out of bed, he finds his cell on 
fire, and shouts loudly for assistance. After a time he is rescued, 
but not until his hair is singed half off his head, and his great-coat 
burnt, more or less, to tinder. Hubert's " Pere Duchesne " came 
out the next day with an accusation against the "• Austrian she- 
wolf," of having caused the prison to be set on fire to consume 
both M. de la Motte and the documents he was on the eve of pro- 
ducing implicating her in the Necklace affair. From La Force the 
count is transferred to the Conciergerie, and on the second day of 

his arrival there his old friend and former barber, Burlandeux 

he to whom the De la Motte furniture was wont to be consigned to 
save it from being taken in execution^ — pays him a visit in com- 
pany with some seven or eight others, whom Burlandeux introduces 
as Manuel (afterwards procureur of the commune), Sergent (one 
of the " killers " at the ensuing September massacres), Panis (a 
friend of Dan ton's), Robespierre, Marat, Hebert, etc., all of them 
having come to compliment the count upon his courage and to 
offer their aid, while vilifying poor Marie-Antoinette in most 
offensive language. De la Motte then has his say, tells his visitors 
that he is a voluntary prisoner, and exclaims vehemently against 
the old Paris parliament for having "sacrificed an innocent woman, 
deprived of the means of defence, that they might save a debauched 
prelate." At the conclusion of the count's harangue, his new 
friends, seemingly very well satisfied with what he has said to them, 
take their leave. 

The hearing of the appeal for the revision of the Necklace 
* See ante, p. 45, 



330 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

process at length comes on. De la Motte pretends that the public 
excitement is intense, the hall being packed from floor to ceiling 
with Jacobins — ragged men and slatternly women for the most part 
— in the midst of whom he recognizes Burlandeux. According to 
the count, the judgment which the third tribunal eventually pro- 
nounces, at the suggestion of the president, would have had the 
effect of restoring to him all his property seized by the crown, if at 
this moment the minister of justice had not given orders for all the 
documents relating to the process to be remitted to the procureur 
du roi, who afterwards brings the whole affair before the first tri- 
bunal. The following letter, written by the count to the king, puts 
the matter, however, in a somewhat different light : — 

"Sire, — When I voluntarily constituted myself a prisoner T 
should, in accordance with the promise made to me by M. Duport, 
(du Tertre), and after the precautions which he had taken, have ob- 
tained my liberty and the entire restitution of my property within 
the week. For four months have I been detained and persecuted 
by a cabal which, disregarding all prudential considerations, seeks 
to give an annoying eclat to this affair. M. de Plane, president 
and judge of the third tribunal, was appointed to examine me, 
which he did in the most indecent manner, his questions having no 
other object than to try and compromise the queen, and princi- 
pally to find the means of confronting her with me in open court, 
as a necessary witness and deponent of facts set forth in this horrid 
process. 

"M. A. DE LA Motte. 

" From the Conciergerie of the Palace of Justice, May 5th, 1792." ^ 

At the time the foregoing letter was written, unless there is a 
mistake in the month — May instead of April— judgment had 
actually been pronounced by the third tribunal exactly one month 
previously, namely on the 5th of April, a circumstance, one would 
imagine, of which the person most concerned could hardly have 
been ignorant.^ 

The count's old friend Burlandeux pays him another visit at 

^ Autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis XVL, in the collec- 
tion of M. Feuillet de Conches. 

^ See the judgment of the first tribunal, post, p. 356. 



MORE MEMOIRS OF THE COUNTESS FOR SALE. 331 

this particular juncture. "Dog of an aristocrat!" exclaims the 
enraged barber, thrusting his fist in the count's face, " Capet and 
the Austrian she-wolf will never help you to get out of this 
prison." After thus abruptly delivering himself, Burlandeux, to 
the count's great relief, quietly retires. 

While the De la Motte appeal was going forward, one day a 
stranger asks to speak to the count. He proves to be a bookseller 
named Gueffier, who has received, he says, from his correspondent 
in London the whole of the French edition of the last "Memaires" 
of Madame de la Motte/ which "Memoires," the count avails him- 
self of this opportunity of stating (believe him, who pleases), were 
written against his advice. The count says that he communicated 
the above information to M. de Laporfce, who obtained the king's 
authority for him to treat with Gueifier for the purchase of the 
work. The fact, however, is that De la Motte wrote direct to the 
king upon the subject, as may be seen by the extract which we are 
enabled to give from his letter, which, curiously enough, bears the 
same date as his other letter to the king — namely, May 5th, 1792: 

. . . " There has just been bought up by a bookseller of 
Paris, named Gueffier, ' the Life of Madame de la Motte, written 
by herself,' and printed in London. Before constituting myself a 
prisoner, I informed M. Duport (du Tertre) of the existence of this 
work, which is really by Madame de la Motte, and which she sold 
on certain conditions, in order to maintain herself, to a printer in 
London, who ought, after having received w^hat he has advanced 
and his own charges, to deliver up the complete editions of the 
work in French and English. Your majesty has, without doubt, 
been informed of these facts by M. Duport, who some time since 
endeavoured to buy up the work, and prevent its being made 
public. It appears that these endeavours were without result, as 
the French copies have arrived at Rouen, and are to })e published 
in a few days at the shop of this Gueffier. This is what the London 
printer, whom I saw two days ago, assured me. 

" I have informed m}^ counsel of these details, and they seem 
much alarmed for the public tranquillity, and that of your majesty 

' " Vie de Jeanne de St.-Remi de Valois, Comtesse de la Motte, ^critepar 
elle-m^me." 



332 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and the queen, on account of the dangers of the publication of this 
work. They have imperatively counselled me to have it seized 
before it arrives in Paris, as the property of Madame de la Motte, 
and now belonging to me by the right of succession. But as the 
booksellers who have purchased it, and who advanced Madame de 
la Motte the money, claim what is due to them, I shall either be 
forced to abandon the seizure or to pay them their demand. I 
cannot myself make a sacrifice of twenty thousand francs. I 
therefore beg your majesty to put yourself to the necessary ex- 
pense in order to frustrate the projects of these evil-disposed per- 
sons. My plan, if it meets with your majesty's approval, is to 
seize and seal up this work at Rouen, and to offer the holders of 
it the amount due to them from Madame de la Motte. The 
whole will then be sealed up and delivered by my counsel to M. 
de Laporte, who will dispose of it according to your majesty's 
orders."^ 

Negotiations are opened with Gueffier, who offers to surrender 
the whole of the copies on receiving a sum of twenty-five thousand 
francs. The count suggests eighteen thousand, which Gueffier 
eventually agrees to accept, whereupon M. de Laporte forwards 
the count twenty thousand francs, with an intimation that he need 
not trouble himself to return the balance.^ 

An attempt, of which the king and M. de Laporte evidently 
knew nothing, had, it seems, been previously made to sell the 
manuscript of this editioji of the countess's life to Marie- Antoinette. 
But the queen, guided by past experience, saw clearly enough 
that, whether she bought the manuscript or Hot, the libel was 
equally certain to be published, and indeed it must have been 
printed off at the time the manuscript was offered to her. She 
therefore peremptorily refused to enter into any negotiation. " At 
the commencement of 1792," writes Madame Campan, "an 
estimable priest asked of me a private interview. He had heard 
of a new libel of Madame de la Motte's, and told me he had re- 
marked that the people who came from London to get it printed in 

^ Extract from an autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis XVI, , 
in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 

=" " M6moires La^dits du Comte de la Motte," pp. 237-9. 



THE C0U2fTESs's MEMOIRS ORDERED TO BE BURNT. 333 

Paris^ were actuated only by the desire of gain, and that they were 
ready to deliver up the manusoript for one thousand louiSj if some 
friend of the queen could be found disposed to make this sacrifice 
to ensure her tranquillity. 

" I communicated this proposition to the queen, who declined 
it, and commanded me to reply that, at the time when it was 
possible to punish the circulators of those libels she had considered 
thein so atrocious and so improbable that she had disdained to 
take any steps for arresting their course, that if she now were im- 
prudent enough to buy up one only, the active espionage of the 
Jacobins would not fail to discover it, and the libel so bought 
would not the less be printed, and would become much more 
dangerous when the public learnt the means she had adopted to 
keep it from their knowledge."^ 

M. de Laporte had the edition of the countess's life, which had 
been purchased from Gaeffier, conveyed to his hotel ; but after a 
time, growing alarmed at the daily increasing excesses of the popu- 
lation of Paris, and fearful that at some moment when he least ex- 
pected it, an irruption might be made into his house, and these 
" Memoires " carried off and distributed among the people, he gave 
an order for them to be burnt with all necessary precaution and 
secrecy. Unfortunately, the person who received this order con- 
fided the execution of it to one Riston, a dangerous intriguer, and 
former advocate of Nancy, escaped, a year previously, from the 
gallows, by favour of the new tribunals, although he had been 
proved guilty of fabricating impressions of the great seal, and forg- 
ing decrees of the council in proceedings undertaken at the re- 
quest of the king's household. " I had," says Bertrand de Mole- 
ville, minister of marine, " to read over to the witnesses their de- 
positions, and to confront them with the accused, at the peril of 
being assassinated, not only by Riston, who, at one of the sittings, 
threw himself upon me with a knife, but also by the brigands in 
his pay, with whom the hall of audience was filled, and who were 
enraged at finding their threatening outcries did not prevent me 

^ The work was really printed in London, and, with the exception of its 
supplement, before the death of the countess in August, 1792. 

^ "Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194, 
et seq. 



334 THE STOEY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

from repressing the insults which the accused offered unceasingly to 
the witnesses who came to depose against him, 

" This same Riston, who a year previously was in the toils of a 
capital accusation, instituted against him in the name and by order 
of the king, finding himself charged with a commission which in 
terested his majesty, and the importance of which was apparent 
from the mystery attaching to it, troubled himself less about the 
best way of executing it than in making a parade of this mark of 
confidence. On May 30th, 1792, (at ten o'clock in the morning), 
he had the printed sheets conveyed in a cart, which he himself 
accompanied, to the porcelain manufactory at Sevres, and caused a 
great fire to be made of them in the presence of all the workmen 
belonging to the establishment, who were expressly forbidden to 
approach near it. All this parade, and the suspicion to which it 
gave rise in these critical times, caused the matter to be publicly 
talked of and discussed -, and the same evening it was brought be- 
fore the Assembly, when Brissot, and others of the Jacobin party 
argued with as much effrontery as vehemence that these papers, 
burnt w^ith so much secrecy, could have been nothing else but the 
registers and correspondence of the Austrian committee. M. de 
Laporte was called to the bar, and gave a most exact account of the 
facts. Riston was also summoned, and confirmed the account given 
by M. de Laporte, But these explanations^ however satisfactory 
they ought to have been, did not appease the violent feeling which 
this affair had excited in the Assembly.^ 

Madame Campan tells an interesting anecdote in connection with 
this unfortunate casualty, " One day," observes she, " M. d'Aubin 
came and said to me, ' the National Assembly has been engaged 
with a denunciation made by the workmen of the manufactory of 
Savres, who brought to the president's desk a pile of pamphlets, 
which they said was the life of Marie- Antoinette. The director of 
the manufactory was called to the bar, and declared that he had re- 
ceived orders to burn these printed works in the kilns used for bak- 
ing the porcelain.' Whilst," says Madame Campan, " I was giving 
an account of this to the queen, the king coloured and hung his 

'■ "M^moires Secrets pour servir k I'Histoire de la dernifere ann^e du 
r6gne de Louis XVI.," par A. F. Bertrand de Moleville, vol. ii. p. 218, 
et seq. 



THE END OF THE LAST DE LA MOTTE LIBELS. 335 

head over his plate. The queen said to him, ' Do you know any- 
thing of this, sir 1 " The king did not answer. Madame Elisabeth 
asked him to explain what it all meant. Still the same silence. 
I promptly retired. A. few minutes afterwards the queen came to 
me, and told me it was the king who, out of regard for her, had 
caused the whole of the edition printed from the manuscript of 
which I had spoken to her, to be purchased, and that M. de Laporte 
had not thought of any more secret way of destroying the work 
than having it burnt at Sevres, in the presence of two hundred 
workmen, one hundred and eighty of whom were certain to be 
Jacobins. She told me that she had concealed her grief from the 
king ; that he was dismayed, and that she could say nothing when 
she found that his tenderness and goodwill towards her had been 
the cause of this accident." ^ 

Such was the end of the last of the De la Motte libels, which were 
nevertheless reprinted in subsequent years, and even so recently as 
the year 1846, more than half a century after their first dissemi- 
nation, so thorough is the vitality of calumny ! 

Marie-Antoinette, in reply to questions put to her at her trial, 
with reference to the papers burnt at Sevres, said : "I believe it 
was a libel. I was not, however, consulted on the matter. I was 
told of it afterwards. Had I been consulted, I should have op- 
posed the burning of any writing which was against me." ^ 

^ '' Memoirs of Marie- Antoinette," by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194. 
2 " Proems de Marie- Antoinette," p. 117. 




336 THE STORT OF THE DIAMOND NEGKI^CB. 



XLI. 

May, 1789— Aug. 1791. 

retribution. the criminal and her accomplices. 

We must now go back in our narrative to the point of time when 
Count de la Motte left Englai;d to traffic in his wife's " Memoires " 
abroad, with what success WO h^ve already seen. Judging from 
the countess's dolorous account of their dealings with them in 
England, it is evident that trouble as well as profit resulted from 
these " Memoires Justificatifs." Neither she nor her husband 
were satisfied with disposing of copies of them through the 
ordinary channels, but sought to force a trade among merchants, 
and even hatters, It seems that nine hundred copies of the 
French, and two hundred an(J fifty copies of the English edition of 
the " Memoires," together with two hundred and eighty-three 
copies of the countess's " Scourge for Calonne " — published at the 
several prices of one guinea, half a guinea, and five shillings — were 
intrusted to a French hatter in New Bond Street, named Coup, 
who advanced the count, at various times, something like three 
hundred pounds upon them. "Without any previous demand," 
says Madame de la Motte, "Coup came one day (May 14, 1789), 
in the absence of my husband, at the head of half a dozen bailiffs, 
and lodged an execution at my house in Chester Place, where he 
for the first time told me he had sufficient authority, my husband 
never having even mentioned the circumstance to me. 

" This was another disagreeable attack, and I saw my house and 
furniture sold on the 21st of May, without being able to procure 
any account from this man of the books he had sold, which would 
have been more than double his demand, as at that particular 
juncture the sale of these books must have been at once rapid and 
extensive. He even had the meanness to put an execution upon 
four or five hundred * Memoires ' which remained with him, and 



THE merchant's WIFE FILLS HER POCKETS. ZSf ' 

which were sold for only six guineas, and were resold by the pur- 
chasers at half a crown and three shillings each. 

" Of the five thousand * Memoires ' which had been printed, 
Coup had received only nine hundred. I proceed to mention what 
became of the remaining ones. My credulous husband, profuse of 
confidence, notwithstanding he had been formerly deceived by a 
man pretending to be a capital merchant, trusted this man with a 
certain number of * Memoires,' French as well as English, which he 
was to dispose of as merchandise to his correspondents in different 
countries, from whom, in a short time, he would receive remit- 
tances. 

" M. de la Motte, though formerly deceived, yet gave him his 
confidence, and delivered to him nine hundred and nine French 
* Memoires,' valued at a guinea each, three hundred and eighty-six 
English ditto, valued at half that sum, and a number of the 
'Scourge for Calonne,' for all of which we never received one 
farthing. This man's wife, upon whom I took pity, remained in 
my house during the time of the execution, under the specious 
pretext of rendering me service. Alas ! what service did she 
render me 1 Small miniature paintings of great value, and other 
valuable articles to the amount of forty or fifty guineas, she put 
into her pocket, and when I reclaimed these effects, she made me 
a most audacious and impertinent reply, to the effect that when 
M. de la Motte should pay them, they would then give an account. 
Against their injustice I have no remedy. They have no property, 
and I am heartily sick of having any business with attorneys, who 
have already had too much to do with my unfortunate husband. 

" Mr. Ridgway, who was the publisher of all these * Memoires,* 
had, upon supposition, about four hundred. These he sold for 
about one hundred and eighty pounds, out of which there was 
eighty pounds for expenses. I have scarce received one hundred 
pounds, and I have remaining, out of eight thousand copies, eight 
hundred French, and three hundred English ' Memoires,' for which 
I have received no money. 

" Very soon after this execution was levied against me, my ser- 
vant, Angelica (the same who was with the countess in the 
SalpStriere, we suppose) got into bad company, and was advised to 
sue for her wages, to the amount of twenty guineas. She applied 



338 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

to an attorney, who threatened me with arrest. Alas ! I that am 
nobly descended, that have been the favourite of a queen, that 
have basked in the sunshine of affluence and felt the smiles of dis- 
tinction, am now nothing ; and were it not for the benevolence of 
some respectable characters, I might probably be reduced to the 
dire necessity of returning to my former mean situation, and of 
imploring charity of every passing stranger." 

And this is what ton years of struggling, scheming, intriguing, 
and petitioning ; of lying, swindling, forgery, theft slander, and 
depravity — and all to be lady of tho manor of Fontette — have 
brought this wretched woman to at last! "Misery, like a vulture, 
gnawing her heart," she says, " and poverty chasing at her very 
heels ; " her household goods sold for debt incurred with respect to 
her malicious libels ; herself threatened with arrest by the very 
servant whose release she procured from, the Salpetriere, while her 
husband is flirting in Holland with some flaxen-haired young /?'aw. 
Either to console herself in the midst of these accumulated 
troubles,. or else — and which is by far the most likely reason — with 
the view of pecuniary gain, she now writes her " Life," in two 
volumes, octavo, taking care to reiterate therein all her previous 
malignant slanders against the French queen. 

"Nothing," says she, almost prophetically, "could have induced 
me tO' undertake a task like this — ^to retrace a life which has already 
bee too long, and which, if my ideas of it are as just as I could wish, 
is drawing fast to a close; nothing," she continues, in her most high- 
fliown style, " could have roused ma from this lethargy of grief but 
the desire of rescuing my memory, when this fluttering pulse shall 
cease to beat, and the hand that now guides my pen be mouldered 
into dust, from the detractions of malice. Abused, insulted, and 
disgraced, the wounds of bleeding honour are too deep to be closed. 
Do they call for vengeance 1 No ; there is a just and righteous 
Judge, before whose tribunal I shall again meet my enemies, where 
neither the strong arm of oppression nor the ' gilded ' hand of 
offence will be sufficiently powerful to vanquish innocence."^ 

Such were the -motives which inspired the countess to write her 
" Life." Curiously enough, the Duke d'Orleans chances to be in 

' " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol i. p. 221. 



THE countess's PLEASING HOPE DESTROYED. 339 

England at this precise period — ^he arrived in London during 
October, 1789, and did not return to France until the following July 
— and it is believed that he encourages madame, by liberal bribes, to 
prosecute her task, even if he does not have a hand himself in its 
production.^ The count, too, is by this time in Paris, and in com- 
munication with the government, and there are the best of reasons 
for believing that the countess's main object in writing this work 
was to extort more money from a well-nigh bankrupt royal ex- 
chequer. Be this as it may, the work is completed towards the 
close of the year 1790, when the Count de la Motte is receiving 
bribes both from the French ministry and the Orleans party ; but 
"its publication is delayed," w^e are informed, "from overtures 
being made for its suppression by a person pretending to be charged 
with a commission for that purpose from the then highest powers 
in France. Some months were wasted in fruitless negotiation, till 
the unexpected flight and consequent embarrassments of the royal 
fugitives destroyed that fl.attering prospect and pleasing hope of 
the countess's being relieved from the difficulties in which the mos^ 
vindictive persecutions had involved her. The speedy flight of the 
negotiator^ who had impressed her with an idea that she would 
soon be placed beyond the reach of fortune by the immediate 
settlement of an annuity upon herself, and the liquidation of her 
husband's debts, on condition of giving up the manuscript and 
printed copies of her ' Life,' left her to struggle with these new- 
created difficulties which his flattering assurances had tended so 
greatly to increase." ^ 

The struggle was but a brief one, for a very few days afterwards 
a catastrophe occurred which speedily placed this wretched woman 
beyond the reach of worldly trouble. According to the count, 
certain agents of the Duke d'Orleans, finding themselves frustrated 
in their efforts to induce Madame de la Motte to quit England, con- 
ceived the idea of having her arrested, in the belief that, when they 
had her in their power, they could by promises, and the prospect of 
a brilliant revenge, prevail upon her to allow herself to be conducted 

^ ' ' Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, " vol. iv. p. 37. 

^ *' Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," Supplement, vol. ii. p. 
58. The Princess de Lamballe was in England in June 1791, and not im- 
probably set on foot the negotiations here referred to. 



340 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

to Paris. " Among these infamous agents," says the count, " there 
was one who went before a justice of the peace and swore on the 
Scriptures that Madame de la Motte owed him a hundred guineas, 
when he was immediately furnished with the necessary order for 
her arrest. Armed with this document, the officers presented 
themselves at her house, and requested her to accompany them — 
she being ignorant all the while of even the name of the villain 
who had sworn to the debt. Even had the debt been real, no one 
had the right to arrest a married woman, and Madame de la Motte 
was sufficiently acquainted with the laws of the country to be 
aware of this circumstance. Still, it was necessary that she should 
furnish proofs of her marriage, which she could not do, as, when 
she quitted Paris, all her papers remained at the Bastille. These 
scoundrels, therefore, insisted upon carrying her off; whereupon 
she declared to them that, if they used violence, she would put 
herself under the protection of the passers-by, who would come to 
her rescue. She told them, however, that she was going to send 
for her lawyer, who would, if requisite, find the necessary bail, and 
she despatched her servant for that purpose, cautioning her before- 
hand, that if the lawyer was not at home, she was, on her return, 
to make her a certain sign, and to say that he was coming, so that 
she might settle within her own mind what course to pursue in 
this emergency. Angelica had no sooner left, than the countess, 
with the view of keeping her vile persecutors in a good humour, 
served them with some luncheon and a bottle of port wine. While 
they were seated at table she walked about the room, conversing 
with them, and looking out of the window to watch for the return 
of Angelica, who, seeing her mistress at the window, and not having 
found the lawyer at home, made her the sign agreed upon. 

" Madame de la Motte, seizing a favourable moment, abruptly 
opened the door and double-locked the scoundrels inside the room. 
The window being open, one of them looked out to see whether she 
left the house. Her extreme anxiety, and the state of confusion she 
was in owing to this unjust aggression, were, no doubt, the reason 
of her not remarking the hackney-coaches stationed before the 
house, into one of which she might have got, and been driven in a 
few minutes into another county, when, in the event of her perse- 
cutors discovering her retreat, it would have been necessary for 



THE COUNTESS THROWS HERSELF FROM A WINDOW. 341 

them to have procured a new writ before they could have again 
arrested her. But instead of adopting this very obvious course, and 
not, perhaps, imagining the fellows would be on the watch to see 
what became of her, she took refuge in a neighbouring house, the 
people belonging to w^hich were known to her. 

" In the meanwhile these infamous tyrants, by dint of kicking at 
the door of the room, succeeded in getting themselves released. They 
immediately made for the house which they had seen the countess 
enter, and demanded of the owner that she should be surrendered 
up to them. The owner replied that he knew no such lady, and re- 
fused to allow them to make a search. They, however, insisted, 
declaring that if Madame de la Motte were not there, they would 
take upon themselves all the oonsequences of the trespass. There- 
upon they proceeded to search the house. Not finding the object 
of their search on the ground or first floors, they ascended to the 
second story, the proprietor following them and renewing his pro- 
testations. At last they arrived at a room, the door of which 
being locked they demanded to have it opened. In vain they were 
told that it was let to a lodger who always took his key with him 
when he went out ; not doubting but that Madame de la Motte 
was concealed here, they threatened to burst the door open if the 
key were net immediately forthcoming. 

" The countess, who was really in this room, had persuaded her- 
self that a plot had been got up to carry her back to France, and 
there imprison her again. She was consequently in a most be- 
wildered state. Opening the window, which looked into a yard, she 
got out and suspended herself by her hands to an iron bar which 
served as a guard, determined to precipitate herself to the ground 
if these fellows should succeed in breaking in the door. Unfortun- 
ately it was of common deal, and a few kicks sufficed to start the 
panels. The instant the countess caught sight of the head of one 
of her pursuers she let go her hold and fell with violence upon the 
pavement. It was her misfortune not to have been killed on the 
spot : her thigh was broken in two places, her left arm was frac- 
tured, and one of her eyes was knocked out ; in addition to which, 
her body was a mass of bruises. In this state she lived for several 
weeks, during which time I received from her a long letter giving 
me a detailed account of this tragical event 



342 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND XECELACK 

" Thus died, at the age of thirty-four, a woman whose whole life 
was one long career of misery, but which might have ended happily 
had not the privilege of her birth, by over-exalting her imagination, 
developed beyond measure those sentiments of pride and ambition 
which conducted her to her fall."^ 

The editor of " The Life of Jeanne de St. Remy de Valois, hereto- 
fore Countess de la Motte, written by herself," furnished, in a sup- 
plement to that work, a few additional particulars of the melancholy 
termination of her career. He says, that "she received most of 
her injuries through falling against the trunk of a tree, and that, 
while the feelings of the surrounding spectators were agonized at 
the sight of the dreadful spectacle which her bleeding and mangled 
form presented, the sheriff's officer, with a disgraceful apathy, was 
only intent to maintain the legality of his caption, and refused 
to sun-ender the almost lifeless body until he had good bail for its 
security."^ 

Spite of the prominent place which the countess and her doings 
had recently occupied in the public mind of Europe, the English 
journals of the day notified the fact of her decease in such brief terms 
as the following : 

" August 26, 1791. — Died at her lodgings, near Astley's Riding 
School, Lambeth, the noted Countess de la Motte, of ' Necklace ' 
memory, who lately jumped out of a two paiir of stairs window, to 
avoid the bailiffs."^ 

Of the last surviving representative of the royal house of Yalois, 
Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi, the Countess's youngest sister, a few 
meagi-e particulars have been preserved. In Madame de la Motto's 
days of grandeur she was engaged to be married to a certain Paul 
Frangois de Barras, nephew of the Count de Barras, and a particular 
friend of her brother's, the young Baron de Valois, and who was 
subsequently better known as commandant of the Convention 
forces against the Robespierre faction on the 9th Thermidor, as the 
friend and patron of young Bonaparte, and chief of the Directory. 

' **M^moiresIn6dits du Comte de la Motte," par L. Laconr, p. 190, 
et seq. 

* "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. Supplement, 
p. 61. 

3 "Gentleman's Magazine," vol. Ixi. p. 783. 



AN APPEAL ON BEHALF OF THE COUNTESS'S SISTER. 343 

" My disaster," (her sentence in regard to the Necklace affair) 
naively observes the countess, " prevented the nuptials."^ In July, 
1786, we find the Abbess of Jarcy, to which convent Mademoiselle 
de Saint-Kemi had again retired, writing to the Baron de Breteuil 
on her behalf, and thanking him for the assistance which he had 
accorded to " virtue in distress." A couple of months afterwards, 
when this assistance is required to be renewed, the baron is favoured 
with a second letter in the following terms : 

" I consider my requests on behalf of Mademoiselle de Sain1>- 
Remi," writes the abbess, "founded as much on justice as on 
charity. The innumerable examples of the goodness of our 
monarchs in such cases authorizes my prayers. And although the 
example of a foreign sovereign ought not to influence the will of our 
august master, I do not see that it is wrong of me to dwell upon 
what the Emperor, brother of the best of queens, has just granted 
to the wife and children of Count de Szekely, condemned to the 
pillory, the galleys, and other punishments. His goods were con- 
fiscated, and the sovereign gave them back to his wife and children. 
He did more : he preserved to them, even to the last survivor, the 
perquisites which the culprit enjoyed as first lieutenant of the 
Hungarian gardes nobles. 

" Is the position of Mademoiselle de Valois less deserving of 
pity ? Alas ! she deserves it much more. There remained some 
fortune to the Countess Sz6kely, whereas our unfortunate is alone 
in the world. Lastly, she is of the blood of our kings — ^very re- 
spectable blood, M. le Baron, in the estimation of both you and I. 

" Shall I tell you, M. le Baron — and why should I hide it any 
longer ? Poison has twice failed to conduct the unhappy one to the 
tomb she longs for. Without the most prompt help — ^without the 
assistance of antidotes administered for twelve hours in succession, 
the unfortunate wretch would have expired in the most frightful 
torments : less frightful, however, than those which she is menaced 
with suffering without the alms which I claim for her, and which 
you cannot refuse — I do not hesitate to say it — to her extreme 
misfortunes."^ 

* "Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 442. •* M^- 
moires In^dits du Comte de la Motte," p. 322. 

=" Autograph letter from Madame de Bracque, Abbess of Jarcy, in the 
collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 



344 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Exactly one year subsequently, namely, in September, 1787, we 
find a certain Abbe Phaph interesting himself very warmly in the 
young lady's affairs, and writing to the countess, who has only re- 
cently arrived in England, urging her to sign some document 
which he has prepared, the effect of which would be to give the 
sister a charge upon the De la Motte property at Bar-sur-Aube, 
This the countess very decidedly declines to do, and writes back 
requesting her sister to send her over " three gowns which she 
fetched away from the mantua-maker's " ^ just after her arrest, and 
which she has ever since detained ! 

Th next we hear of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi is that she is 
living openly with the aforesaid abb^ as his mistress.^ In April, 
1787, we find her engaged in a process against the domain for the 
restitution of the family papers and deeds of succession, which she 
stated were under the seals affixed to the efifects of her sister ; but 
orders having come from Versailles for all proceedings in the 
matter to be suspended, the suit had to be abandoned.^ From this 
time we lose sight of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi until January, 
1794, the height of the Terror, when, caught up in the revolution- 
ary vortex, she is sent to the Port Libre prison as a suspect Here 
she is at first mistaken for her sister, until people call to mind that 
the countess has been dead some years.* Six months afterwards 
she is transferred to the Carmes, and in less than another month — 
namely, on the 22nd of August, three days before the an-est and 
execution of Robespierre — she has the good fortune to regain her 
liberty.^ What subsequently became of her, and the precise date 
at which she died, are involved in obscurity. Beugnot speaks of 
her as having retired to some convent in Germany,^ and a para- 
graph in Count de la Motte's " Memoires " would lead us to sup- 
pose that her death took place about the year 1817.'' 

But little is known of the future careers of the countess's two 

^ " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. ii. p. 377. 
^ " M^moire Historique," etc., par R^taux de Villette, p. 3. 
3 "Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI.," etc.. vol. ii. p. 346. 
* " Lettres et Documents In^dits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette," 
vol. i. p. 171. 

s '• Marie-Antoinette et le Proems du Collier," p. 23. 
^ ** Memoires du Comte Beugnot," vol. i. p. 6. 
7 See post, p. 363. 



villbtte's "memoire historique." 345 

Accomplices, the forger Villette, and the counterfeit queen 
D'Oliva. Villette, on being banished from France, proceeded to 
gratify that longing which he pretended he had to visit Italy where 
he seems to have lived for some years, apparently not caring to 
profit by the opportunity which the Revolution afforded him to re- 
turn once more to the land of his birth. He published at Venice, 
in the year 1790, as his contribution to the lying literature of the 
Diamond Necklace affair, a small octavo volume, of less than one 
hundred pages, under the title of " M^moire Historique des Intri- 
gues de la Cour, et de se qui s'est pass6 entre la Reine, le Comte 
d'Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, Madame de Polignac, Madame de 
la Motte, Cagliostro, etc."^ In this work he informs us that he 
forged the queen's signature under the eyes of the cardinal — a 
prince who overawed him, and who had so many opportimities of 
benefiting him — and of Madame de la Motte, a woman whom he 
adored ; a pension of six thousand livres a year being promised him 
for his compliance, one thousand crowns of which he received, the 
following day, on account. The words "0/ France,^^ were added, 
he says, by the cardinal's express directions. Villette pretends 
that Cagliostro, the cardinal, and Madame de la Motte, were 
equally concerned in the plot ; Cagliostro, whom at the trial he 
emphatically declared to be innocent of all share in the fraud, 
being the most guilty of all. The Necklace was obtained, he 
said, with the sole view of selling it, so that the trio might re- 
plenish their bankrupt exchequers, the cardinal having exhausted 
his resources in supplying Cagliostro with funds to carry on his 
experiments for the discovery of the philosopher's stone, which ex- 
periments they hoped might turn out successful by the time the 
Necklace had to be paid for. Villette pronounces all the 
" Memoires" put forth at the time of the trial to be merely so 
many romances, fabricated for the sole purpose of concealing the 
truth. Of the countess's liaisons he speaks in the most open terms. 
" Abandoned," he says, " by her husband, a depraved libertine and 
gambler, she sought to captivate other men, and to render them 
slaves to her charms." What these charms were, Villette himself 

^ Though it hears the imprint of A-^enice on the title-page, this ** Memoire " 
was possibly a production of the unlicensed Paris press of the period. 



346 



THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



shall tell. "Strong natural wit, a graceful figure, a white and 
transparent skin, and eyes bright and piercing." He says that he 
possessed the countess's entire confidence, and knew of all her in- 
trigues, and particularly her liaisons wdth the cardinal ; he then 
proceeds to say that she was seduced in the first instance by the 
Marquis de Boulainvilliers, and that she afterwards admitted the 
Bishop of Langres to her embraces, that the Marquis d'Autichamp 
was her next lover, that she had a liaison with the Count d'Artois 
even, and reckoned the Count de Dolomieu and M. de Coigny on the 
list of those she had ensnared. " I have described her," concludes 
Villette, "as she was — amiable, pretty, and over-complaisant; too 
good not to have been a trifle weak, too passionate not to have 
been somewhat of a libertine. This woman, whom I loved to 
adoration, and who had loaded me with benefits, I dared to 
betray." 

The termination of the career of Retaux de Villette would 
appear to have been even a more sorry one than that of the woman 
he so adored, if the statement is true that he died by the hands of 
the hangman, swung off on the leads of the Castle of Saint Angelo, 
at Rome.^ 

The Demoiselle d'Oliva married her old lover Beausire, the same 
who accompanied her to Brussels at the time of her flight. He 
was an offshoot of nobility, and, as we have already stated, was for- 
merly attached to the household of the Count d'Artois. D'Oliva's 
married life was but brief, and anything but happy, for she died, 
it is reported, in 1789, in the greatest misery.^ Next year her 
husband became commandant of the National guard of the Temple 
section, but finding his influence rapidly declining, he retired to 
Choisy, near Paris, and managed to get appointed procureur of the 
commune ; finally he pursued the despicable calling of mouton^ 
or informer, and drew up the lists of proscription in the Luxem- 
bourg prison, when it was choke-full of persons suspects. Against 
the majority of these there was not a shadow of evidence, but as 

^ So stated by Carlyle in the rhapsodical prophecy which he puts into 
the mouth of Cagliostro, and which he subsequently says all turned out 
"literally true." See vol. iv. pp. 57, 60, of his Essays. 

^ *' Lettres et Documents Inddits de Louis XVI. et Marie- Antoinette, " par 
M. Feuillet de Conches, vol, i. p. 1C5. 



THE END OF THE DEMOISELLE d'oLIVA's HUSBAND. 347 

evidence must be forthcoming in some form or other, the poor 
wretches were accused of having plotted in prison. It was re- 
marked that Beausire's old acquaintances who had had the ill- 
luck to win money of him at play were certain to be on his list of 
victims, and it was said that he spoke privately to the public 
accuser to have them guillotined.^ "This Plot in the Prison,'* 
remarks Carlyle, "is now the stereotype formula of Tinville ; 
ao-ainst whomsoever he knows no crime, this is a ready-made 
crime. His judgment-bar has become unspeakable, a recognized 
mockery, known only as the wicket one passes through towards 
death. His indictments are drawn out in blank ; you insert the 
names after. He has his moutons, detestable traitor jackals, who 
report and bear witness, that they themselves may be allowed to 
live — for a time."^ 

Beausire was at the head of these moutons, was, in fact, the chief 
spy of the detestable Boyenval, who gloated over the number of 
victims he was instrumental in bringing to the guillotine. He 
said of Beausire, that he made use of him, but that Fouquier 
Tinville did not like him, and that he could have him guillotined 
whenever he pleased.^ And it pleased Boyenval at last to put this 
covert threat of his into execution, and " D'Oliva's husband was 
juried in."^ 

* " Mgmoires siir les Prisons de Paris sous Robespierre," vol. ii. p. 88. 
'' Carlyle's French Revolution, Leipzig, vol. iii. p. 341. 

3 " M^moires sur les Prisons de Paris," etc., vol. ii. p. 78. 

* " Carlyle's Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. p. 53. 



348 THR STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XLII. 

1786-1793. 

DUPE AND VICTIM. 

What became of the Dupe — Cardinal Prince Bishop Louis-Rene- 
Edouard de Rohan? Finding the bleak air of the Auvergne 
mountains sorely trying to his constitution, broken as it was by 
excesses and long confinement in the Bastille,, the cardinal asked 
and obtained permission of the king to choose another place of 
residence. Either he or the Baron de Breteuil fixed upon the 
Abbey of St. Benoit, on the Loire, near Orleans, but the lady supe- 
rior of this establishment, alarmed at the prospect of the cardinal 
and his large retinue of servants coming there and eating them out 
of house and home, besides being very backward in his payments, 
protested that she was unable to afford the cardinal the necessary 
accommodation.^ Eventually he was taken in at the Abbey of 
Marmontier, near Tours, where, we are told, he was ever lamenting 
the mad hopes in which he had permitted- himself to indulge with 
regard to the queen, and the blind confidence he had reposed in 
Madame de la Motte.^ Growing tired after a time of his new home, 
the cardinal made various efforts to obtain permission to return to 
his diocese, and even sent medical certificates to his old enemy, 
the Baron de Breteuil, setting forth that the air of his native 
Alsace was absolutely necessary to the restoration of his health. 
The king at last gave an unwilling consent, and for a time the 
cardinal lived in something like his old accustomed luxurious state 
at pleasant Saverne. On the approach of the Revolution he was 
nominated, by the influence of the popular party — who thought 
that his desire to be revenged upon the court would secure him to 

* Autograph letters of the Abbess of St. B6noit to the Baron de Breteuil, 
in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. 

= " Marie- Antoinette et le Proems du Collier," par E. .Campardon, p. 
156, note. 



THE CARDINAL IN THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY FOR A TIME. 349 

their side — a deputy of the clergy of Alsace. Being still under 
sentence of exile he did not dare accept the nomination, and a 
certain Abbe Louis was elected in his place. The abbe dying, the 
cardinal was again chosen, and the National Assembly having 
cancelled his sentence of exile, after some delay he came to Paris 
and took his seat, amidst loud shouts of applause — much, however, 
against the wish of his illustrious relatives, who, one and all, hated 
the Revolution as a certain individual is said to hate holy water. 
For a time the cardinal, with the view of self-preservation, went 
with the revolutionary current, and even took the civic oath ; but 
when his co-reformers began to meddle with the property of the 
clergy, decreeing the sale of their lands and superfluous edifices, he 
cut himself adrift from them, and retired once mol-e to his loved 
Saverne, to dream, however, no more mad dreams of love and 
ambition while pacing up and down his once-favourite " Promenade 
de la Rose." 

Any mere wordy formula the cardinal was willing enough to 
swallow, but he could not tolerate sacrilegious hands being laid 
upon church property, and particularly church property that he was 
interested in. " Messieurs of the clergy," said a wag of the time, 
"it is your turn to be shaved ; if you wriggle too much you will be 
certain to get cut ;" and cut the cardinal, and with him the un- 
fortunate crown jewellers, certainly did get, for the latter's security 
on the rich revenues of the Abbey of St. Waast, of which the nation 
had taken possession, was now only so much waste paper, and bank- 
ruptcy was the result. Shortly after the grand national oath-taking 
ceremony in the Champ de Mars, the cardinal was summoned by 
the Assembly to resume his functions as deputy within fifteen days, 
but instead of doing so, he wrote a letter, stating that as it was im- 
possible for him to give his adhesion to the new civil constitution 
of the clergy, he placed his seat at the Assembly's disposal. The 
cardinal was now looked upon as one " susj^eci" and had ere long to 
retire to Ettenheim, a dependency of his Strasbourg bishopric, 
lying beyond the French frontier on the opposite bank of the 
Rhine. Here, in his capacity of prince of the German empire, he 
caused levies of troops to be made to swell the army under the 
command of his relative, the Prince de Conde, whom he aided in 
every possible way. These proceedings of his greatly exasperated 



350 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the revolutionary party ; he was constantly being denounced in the 
National Assembly, and on one occasion Victor de Broglie brought 
forward a proposition to indict him before the national high court; 
but the Assembly, knowing the cardinal to be beyond its reach, 
*sensibly enough refused to entertain the proposal, although it was 
renewed again and again. It contented itself, on first hearing of 
the cardinal's flight, with instructing the municipality of Strasbourg 
to seize and make an inventory of his effects, of which they were to 
retain custody until further orders.^ " Deprived of his vast 
revenues," says the cardinal's biographer, "he lived a modest and 
frugal life, intent only on securing the happiness of his diocese, now 
reduced to a small patch of territory on the right bank of the 
Rhine. "^ This life of virtuous restraint which the old spendthrift 
and debauchee, stripped of his fat benefices, was compelled to lead 
in his declining years, was perhaps as severe a punishment as could 
have been meted out to him. He died on the 16th of February, 
1803, having attained an age only a little more than a year short 
of the allotted three score years and ten. 

The cardinal and his "familiar" do not appear to have met again 
on this side of the grave. Cagliostro, as we have seen, had to 
make a rapid retreat to England, and here he remained for about 
a couple of years. Then he went to Switzerland, to Savoy, and 
finally to several of the chief cities of Italy. On December 27th, 
1789, when the proceedings of the revolutionary party in France 
were exciting the utmost alarm in the minds of members of the 
sacred college, Cagliostro had the ill-luck to get arrested, denounced, 
it is said, by his wife as chief of a society of Illuminati. He was 
confined in the Castle of St. Angelo, and after fifteen months de- 
tention, was found guilty of practising freemasonry, and sentenced 
to death, which sentence was commuted to perpetual imprisonment 
in the Castle of St. Leo, where he is believed to have died in 1795. 
His wife was condemned to a life of religious seclusion in the Con- 
vent of Ste. Apolline.^ 

And what became of the Victim 1 — the Austrian she- wolf ! — the 
Austrian tigress ! — the Iscariot of France ! Messalina, Brunehaut, 

* " Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI.," etc., vol. ii. p. 463. 

* Biographie Universelle ; art. de Rohan. 
3 Ibid,, art. Cagliostro. 



MARIE- ANTOINETTE ON HER TRIAL. 351 

Fredegonde, and Medicis ! as she was indifferently called by her re- 
lentless persecutors ? A more powerful pen than our own shall 
record her cruel fate : — 

« On Monday, the 14th of October, 1793, a cause is pending in 
the Palais de Justice, in the new Revolutionary Court, such, as 
these old stone walls never witnessed— the trial of Marie- Antoinette. 
The once brightest of queens, now tarnished, defaced, forsaken, 
stands here before Fouquier Tinville's judgment-bar, answering for 
her life. The indictment was delivered her last night.^ To such 
changes of human fortune what words are adequate? Silence alone 
is adequate. 

" There are few printed things one meets with of such tragic, 
almost ghastly, significance as those bald pages of the Bidletin du 
Tribunal Eholutionnaire, which bear title ' Trial of the Widow 
Capet' ... The very witnesses summoned are like ghosts: ex- 
culpatory, inculpatory, they themselves are all hovering over death 
and doom ; they are known, in our imaginations, as the prey of the 
guillotine. Tall, ci-devant Count d'Estaing, anxious to show himself 
patriot, cannot escape ; nor Bailly, who, when asked if he knows 
the accused, answers, with a reverent inclination towards her, 'Ah, 
yes ! I know madame.' Ex-patriots are here sharply dealt with, as 
Procureur Manuel; ex-ministers shorn of their splendour. We 
have cold aristocratic impassivity, faithful to itself even in Tartarus; 
rabid stupidity of patriot corporals — patriot washerwomen — who 
have much to say of plots, treasons, August tenth, old insurrection 
of women, — for all now has become a crime in her who has Yos^. 

*' Marie- Antoinette, in this her utter abandonment and hour tff 
extreme need, is not wanting to herself, the imperial woman. Her 
look, they say, as that hideous indictment was reading, continued 
calm ; * she was sometimes observed moving her fingers as when 
one plays on the piano.' You discern, not without interest, across 
that dim revolutionary bulletin itself, how she bears herself queen- 
like. Her answers are prompt, clear, often of laconic brevity; 
resolution, which has grown contemptuous without ceasing to be 
dignified, veils itself in calm words. ' You persist, then, in de- 
nial V 'My plan is not denial : it is the truth I have said, and I 



■ Proems de la E-eiue " (Deux Amis), vol. xi. pp. 251 j 



381. 



352 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

persist in that.' Scandalous Hebert has borne his testimony as to 
many things — as to one thing concerning Marie- Antoinette and her 
little son, wherewith human speech had better not ftirther be soiled. 
She has answered H^b^rt ; a juryman begs to observe that she has 
not answered as to this. * I have not answered,' she exclaims with 
noble emotion, * because nature refuses to answer such a charge 
brought against a mother. I appeal to all the mothers that are 
here.' Robespierre, when he heard of it, broke out into something 
almost like swearing at the brutish blockheadism of this Hebert,' 
on whose foul head his foul lie has recoiled. At four o'clock on 
Wednesday morning, after two days and two nights of interroga- 
ting, jury-charging, and other darkening of counsel, the result 
comes out : sentence of Death ! ' Have you anything to say 1 ' 
The Accused shook her head, without speech. Night's candles are 
burning out ; and with her, too, time is finishing, and it will be 
Eternity and Day. This Hall of Tinville's is dark, ill-lighted, ex- 
cept where she stands. Silently she withdraws from it, to die. 

" Two processions, or royal progresses, three-and-twenty years 
apart, have often struck us with a strange feeling of contrast. 
The first is of a beautiful arch-duchess and dauphiness, quitting 
her mother's city, at the age of Fifteen, towards hopes such as no 
other Daughter of Eve then had. ' On the morrow,' says Weber, 
an eye-witness, ' the Dauphiness left Vienna. The whole city 
crowded out, at first with a sorrow which was silent. She ap- 
peared : you saw her sunk back into her carriage, her face bathed 
in tears ; hiding her eyes now with her handkerchief, now with her 
hands ; several times putting out her head to see yet again this 
Palace of her Father's, whither she was to return no more. She 
motioned her regret, her gratitude to the good Nation which was 
crowding here to bid her farewell. Then arose not only tears, but 
piercing cries, on all sides. Men and women alike abandoned them- 
selves to such expression of their sorrow. It was an audible sound 
of wail in the streets and avenues of Vienna. The last courier 
that followed her disappeared, and the crowd melted away.'^ 

" The young imperial maiden of fifteen has now become a worn, 
discrowned widow of thirty-eight, gray before her time. This is 

* " Villate, Causes Secrfetes de la Revolution de Thermidor," p. 179. 

* Weber's ** M^moires concernant Marie- Antoinette," vol. i. p. 6. 



THE LAST MOMENTS OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 353 

the last procession : * Few minutes after the trial ended, the drums 
were beating to arms in all sections. At sunrise the armed force 
was on foot, cannons getting placed at the extremities of the 
bridges, in the squares, crossways, all along from the Palais de 
Justice to the Place de la Revolution. By ten o'clock numerous 
patrols, were circulating in the streets ; thirty thousand foot and 
horse drawn up under arms. At eleven Marie-Antoinette was 
brought out. She had on an undress of piquk hlanc. She was led 
to the place of execution in the same manner as an ordinary crimi- 
nal, bound on a cart, accompanied by a constitutional priest in lay 
dress, escorted by numerous detachments of infantry and cavalry. 
These and the double row of troops all along her road she appeared 
to regard with indifference. On her countenance there was visible 
neither abashment nor pride. To the cries of Vive la Repuhlique 
and Down with Tyranny, which attended her all the way, she 
seemed to pay no heed. She spoke little to her confessor. The 
tricolour streamers on the house-tops occupied her attention in the 
streets du Roule and Saint-Honore ; she also noticed the inscrip- 
tions on the house fronts. On reaching the Place de la Revolution, 
her looks turned towards the Jardin National, whilom Tuileries ; 
her face at that moment gave signs of lively emotion. She mounted 
the scaffold with courage enough. At a quarter past twelve her 
head fell ; the executioner showed it to the people amid universal, 
long-continued cries of Vive la Repuhlique." ^ 

And this was the fate reserved for her of whom Burke had said 
that he ^thought "ten thousand swords would have leapt from 
their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with 
insult ; " — who, on her first entry into Paris, was welcomed by a 
wild sea of human beings, that surged along her line of route and 
filled the vast space of the Place du Carrousel ; — the fair young 
dauphiness, to whom, as she looked forth from the gallery of the 
Tuileries upon the swaying mass beneath, the old Duke de Brissac 
gallantly said, " Madame, you have under your eyes two hundred 
thousand lovers;" — the young queen who, when called upon to 
share her husband's throne, with mixed feelings of gratitude and 
pride wrote thus respecting her adopted country to her mother : 

* ''Deux Amis," vol. xi. p. 301. Carlyle's "French Revolution," Leipzig, 
vol. iii. pp. 244-7. 



354 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

'* Though God caused me to be bom in the rank I now occupy, 
I cannot but admire the order of His providence which has selected 
me, the last of your children, for the finest realm in Europe. I 
feel more than ever how much I owe to the tenderness of my 
august mother, who took so much pains and care to procure for 
me this great establishment."^ 

*' Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low ! . . . . 
Oh ! is there a man's heart that thinks, without pity, of those long 
months and years of slow wasting ignominy : of thy Birth, soft- 
cradled in Imperial Schonbrunn, the winds of heaven not to visit 
thy face too roughly, thy foot to light on softness, thy eye on 
splendour ; and then of thy Death, or hundred Deaths, to which 
the Guillotine and Fouquier Tinville's judgment-bar was but the 
merciful end ? Look there, man bom of woman ! The bloom of 
that fair face is wasted ; the hair is grey with care ; the brightness 
of those eyes is quenched, their lids hang drooping ; the face is 
stony pale, as of one living in death. Mean weeds, which her own 
hand has mended, attire the Queen of the World. The death- 
hurdle, where thou sittest pale, motionless, which only curses 
environ, has to stop ; a people, drunk with vengeance, will drink 
it again in full draught, looking at thee there ! Far as the eye 
reaches, a multitudinous sea of maniac heads ; the air deaf with 
their triumph-yell ! The Living-dead must shudder with yet one 
other pang ; her startled blood yet again suffuses with the hue of 
agony that pale face, which she hides with her hands. There is 
no heart to say, God pity thee ! think not of these ; think of 
Him whom thou worshippest, the Crucified, — who, also treading 
the wine-press alone, fronted sorrow still deeper ; and triumphed 
over it, and made it holy ; and built of it a * Sanctuary of Sorrow,' 
for thee and all the wretched ! Thy path of thorns is nigh ended. 
One long last look at the Tuileries, where thy step was once so 
light — where thy children shall not dwell. The head is on the 
block : the axe rushes — dumb lies the World. That wild-yelling 
World, and all its madness, is behind thee ! 

*' Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low ! . . . . 

* ** Maria-Theresia iind Marie- Antoinette," von A. Eitter von Ameth, 
p. 107. 



AS PEASANTS, HOW HAPPY HAD YE BEEN ! 355 

Thy fault in the French Revolution, was that thou wert the 
Symbol of the Sin and Misery of a thousand years; that with 
Saint Bartholomews, and Jacqueries, with Gabelles, and Dra- 
gonades, and Parcs-aux-cerfs, the heart of mankind was filled full, 
and foamed over in all-involving madness. To no Napoleon, to no 
Cromwell wert thou wedded ; such sit not in the highest rank, of 
themselves ; are raised on high by the shaking and confounding of 
all the ranks ! As poor peasants, how happy, worthy had ye two 
been ! But by evil destiny ye were made a King and a Queen of; 
and so both once more are become an astonishment and a by-word 
to all times. "^ 

' Carlyle's " Critical and Miscellaneous Essays," vol. iv. pp. 30, 31. 



356 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 



XLIII. 
1792-1831. 

"NESTOR DE LA MOTTE." ^ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER PROSPERS. 

GREEN OLD AGE. 

Count db la Mottb survived all the actors in the Necklace 
drama, and lived to see France once more in the throes of a Re- 
volution and the Bourbons again dethroned — lived in fact, to the 
commencement of our own era, and heard of, if he did not see, 
steam-vessels daily crossing the Channel, and railways carrying 
passengers upwards of twenty miles an hour. 

We left the count pursuing his second appeal with reference to 
the Necklace case. He had not long to wait for a decision, for we 
find that on July 27, 1792, the first tribunal gave judgment " on 
the appeal lodged by Marc-Nicolas la Motte from the judgment 
given against him on the 5th of April last by the third tribunal 
established at the Palais de Justice " in the following terms : — 

*' Whereas the complaint remitted by the procureur-g^neral to 
the former Parliament of Paris on September 7, 1785, is only 
signed at the end and not on each sheet, which is contrary to law, 
the present appeal is annulled, together with the judgment given 
by the former Parliament of Paris on December 5, 1785. 

" Nevertheless, having regard to the gravity of the offence, it is 
ordered that the said La Motte shall remain in custody, and that 
the documents in the suit shall be hereunto annexed to serve as a 
record of the proceedings, and that the same shall be brought be- 
fore the director of the jury to decide upon as he may be advised.^ 

The count pretends that in the first instance the judgment 
said nothing whatever about his remaining in custody, and that it 
was only on the Jacobin public accuser (?) rising and stating that 
as no notice had been taken during the proceedings of the letters 
patent issued by the king, he opposed the count's being set at 

^ Moniteur for 1792, No. 220. 



COUNT DB LA MOTTB IS SET AT LIBERTY. 36S 

liberty, that the unpleasant addendum was made. According to 
the count, the king at once oflfered to withdraw the letters patent, 
but was overruled by the minister. In a few days it was too late; 
Louis XVI. was dethroned and a prisoner at the Temple, his own 
keeper of the seals, Duport du Tertre, sealing with the great seal 
the order for his arrest. 

About this time poor M. de Laporte is also arrested and sent to 
join the count in the Conciergerie, and in a week or two, after a 
swift trial before the newly constituted tribunal of August 17th, 
the harmless old man is sent to the guillotine. Swiftly as the new 
tribunal does its work with the suspects^ and swiftly as the newly 
invented guillotine seconds it, still it is not sharp enough for re- 
volutionary patriotism, with Verdun fallen and the Duke of 
Brunswick in full march upon the capital. By Marat and Billaud, 
and Sergent and Panis and some few others, the hideous September 
massacres are planned, and De la Motte is horrified at learning 
that his name, with the fatal red cross against it, stands second on 
the list of proscribed prisoners in the Conciergerie. The count 
pretends that he and a party of fellow-prisoners secretly arm them- 
selves and decide upon making a desperate resistance, though 
where they got their weapons from is by no means clear. Accord- 
ing to his version, he is provided with a dagger and a couple of 
pistols, and takes up his post at the grating at the end of the 
corridor, where he remains on the watch, and from whence, not 
only did he see the prisoners tried, but slaughtered as well. 
Throughout the night nothing is heard but the unlocking of doors 
and drawing of bolts, followed by shouts, shrieks, and groans; 
and an hour or so before daybreak comes the sound of heavy foot- 
steps, of loud voices demanding the keys, and sharp blows against 
the door at the entrance to the corridor leading to their cells. All 
at once the count hears his own name shouted out, and thinks the 
time has now come to battle for his life. A few more blows and 
the door gives way, and a band of strangers rushes in — friends, 
however, and not enemies, who caress the count, clasp him to their 
breasts, and carry him off triumphantly in their arms. The out- 
side of the prison gained, they entertain him at a neighbouring 
caf6, and then summoning a vehicle, three of his liberators accom- 
pany him to the Rue de Choiseul, where they insist upon his going 



358 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

and at once making his demand upon the " domain" for the entire 
value of his effects seized at Bar-sur-Aube in virtue of the sentence 
passed upon him by the Parliament of Paris. 

The count of course does as he is bid, and what is most 
surprising, according to his own statement, without previous notice 
or proving his identity, or even the shadow of a legal claim, he 
succeeds in obtaining from the "domain" a sum of thirty thousand 
francs on account, twenty-seven thousand francs of which he stows 
away in his pocket-book, and the remaining three thousand, which 
are in assignats, he hands to his deliverers to dispose of as they 
may think proper.^ 

It was lucky for the count that he had been transferred to the 
Conciergerie, for at the time the foregoing scenes were being enacted 
in this prison, this is what was transpiring at La Force, where the 
count was originally confined. ^' At one o'clock in the morning of 
September 3rd," writes Maton de la Varenne,^ "the gate leading 
to our quarter was again opened. Four men in uniform, each with 
a drawn sabre and blazing torch, mounted our corridor, preceded by 
a turnkey, and entered a room close to ours to search a box which 
we heard them break open. This done, they halted in the gallery 
and began questioning one Cuissa to know where La Motte was. 
La Motte, they said, under a pretext of finding a treasure which 
they were to share in, had swindled one of them out of three 
hundred livres, having asked him to dinner for that purpose. The 
wretched Cuissa, whom they had in their power, and who lost his 
life that night, answered trembling that he remembered the cir- 
cumstance well, but did not know what had become of La Motte. 
Determined to find La Motte, and confront him with Cuissa, they 
ascended to other rooms and made further search there, but 
evidently without success, for I heard them say, " Let's look 
among the corpses then, for in God's name he must be found ! " 

The count had not long regained his liberty before he was dis- 
covered by his niece, daughter of Madame de la Tour, she who as 
a child had taken part in the famous incantation scene enacted by 
Cagliostro at the Palais-Cardinal, and of which the countess made 

' " Mdmoires In^dits du Comte de la Motte," pp. 254-282. 
' " Les Crimes de Marat et des atitres ^gorgeurs, ou, ma K^surrection," 
par P. A. L. Maton de la Vareune, pp. 67-8. 



THE COUNT RETIRES TO BAR-SUR-AUBB. 359 

SO much at the Necklace trial. The game of appealing and peti- 
tioning against the judgment rendered in the Necklace trial being 
now up, and it being the duty of all patriots to hurl back foreign 
invasion, Count de la Motte returns to his old profession of arms, 
raises a company of cavalry, composed chiefly of former friends in 
the gendarmerie, gets appointed captain, has his troop reviewed by 
the colonel on the Boulevards, and next day finds himself de- 
nounced by patriot Burlandeux, who charges him with being both 
royalist and aristocrat, and swears that the company he has joined 
is composed entirely of men of his own stamp, with not a single 
sans-culotte among them. The count not desiring to return to his 
old quarters in the Conciergerie — for again there with Danton as 
minister of justice, the chances are that he would only leave them 
for the guillotine — is glad enough to return his sword to its 
scabbard, and accept a passport for his native town of Bar-sur- 
Aube. 

On his arrival there he finds the great pavilion attached to his 
house occupied by the provincial directory, which necessitates his 
furnishing a few rooms in the house itself for his own accommoda- 
tion. Having done this, he proceeds to Tonnerre to fetch his 
sister and niece, who have taken up their residence there. At 
Tonnerre the count stays for several weeks, smitten with the 
charms, or possibly the expectations, of a young lady, only 
daughter of a rich proprietor. " I was thirty-six," remarks he — 
he was upwards of thirty-eight — " but I did not look so old ; she 
was eighteen." The count finding himself favoured in his suit, asks 
the hand of mademoiselle in marriage, and is accepted. 

Time passes pleasantly enough for the next month or two ; the 
count is installed in the old house at Bar-sur-Aube, and has his 
sister and niece residing with him. The shooting season is on, and 
only give the count his dog and his gun and he will not lack for 
amusement. Of course he makes frequent journeys to Tonnerre, 
although something like fifty miles of cross roads intervene between 
the two places ; but what are these to a man in love, who has been 
accustomed to the saddle too all his life ? How he manages to live 
at this time he does not condescend to tell us. There are no more 
sealed money packages from poor old Laporte. Was it on the ba- 
lance of the assignats which he received from the domain ? — if he 



360 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

ever did receive what he states — or was it upon his sister, Madame 
de la Tour ? We think the latter the most probable. M. de la 
Tour had emigrated, and the count's anxiety that his sister 
should live with him arose, we expect, from his desire to live on her. 

It is at this time, November, 1792, that the king is brought to 
trial ; the count is nervously anxious for news of the result of the 
proceedings, simply because, as he admits, he still entertained some 
faint hopes of being able to obtain a further supply of cash from the 
dethroned monarch. Louis XVI. dead, the count is reduced to his 
shadowy claim on the domain. 

During the next eighteen months, De la Motte leads the life of a 
country gentleman at Bar-sur-Aube. He hunts, and shoots, and 
fishes, and cultivates his little plot of land, and rides constantly 
over to Tonnerre. The queen is now brought to trial, and he is 
appealed to, he says, to come to Paris and depose against her, but 
declines to do so. " In my opinion," observes this contemptible 
hypocrite, professing to believe in his wife's pretended intimacy 
with Marie- Antoinette, " the queen was not so blamable (in the 
Necklace affair) as Madame de la Motte believed. In her position 
it was difficult to interfere between the law and its victim. I was 
persuaded this sacrifice had cost the queen much, and I had had 
proofs of the goodness of her heart. "^ In May, 1794, the count 
proceeds to Paris to urge his claim against the domain, which claim 
of his has now become as much his fixed idea as the revision of his 
sentence in the Necklace trial was a year or two ago. He met, 
however, with no success ; and after two months spent in wearying 
appeals, returns home again, balked in all his plans, and thoroughly 
disgusted to find that Bar-sur-Aube has now its revolutionary com- 
mittee, and its denouncers of suspects, and is by no means a secure 
place to reside in. Tonnerre, he thinks, will be more preferable, so 
to Tonnerre he hies, but only to find that it also has its denouncers. 
The count hastens home again, and finds his sister and niece already 
arrested as the wife and daughter of an emigre ; thinking his turn 
will not be long in coming, he keeps his horse ready saddled in his 
stable, puts a pair of pistols in the holsters, and prepares to ride 
away at the first signal of danger. 

» " Mdmoires In^dits du Comte de fa Motte," pp. 286-302. 



THE COUNT IN AND OUT OP PRISON AGAIN. 361 

With the view of keeping in with the revolutionary party, the 
count gives a supper to the members of the committee, after which 
proof of patriotism they grant him a certificate of citizenship in 
proper form. Protected by this, he returns to Tonnerre, and pro- 
ceeds to take the necessary steps for his marriage. But the muni- 
cipality will not permit the banns to be published until the count 
produces a certificate of the countess's death, and this, owing to the 
war with England, he is unable to procure. Back to Bar-sur-Aube 
the count rides again and obtains such certificate as he can from 
the authorities there — his uncle, M. de Suremont, the same that 
had to disgorge the jewels belonging to the count which he had 
appropriated — being mayor at the time. Ere, however, the count 
can return to Tonnerre he is arrested by order of a government 
commissioner, and carried off by a couple of militaires to Troyes, to 
the same prison where his sister and niece are already confined. 
Here the time seems to have passed pleasantly enough with music, 
singing, reading of plays and flirtations between the male and female 
prisoners. Among the latter is the "wife of an emigre, with a 
charming daughter of eighteen "—eighteen seems to have been 
an irresistible age with the count. " Not having," says he, in the 
coolest manner, "any further relations with the people of Tonnerre" 
— although he was about setting out to his wedding at the very 
time he was arrested — "I decided upon marrying this young 
person." 

Fortunately for the count, Robespierre's fall takes place at this 
period, and he and his fellow-prisoners regain their liberty. On 
returning to Bar-sur-Aube he finds that all his arms and horses have 
been appropriated by the officers who arrested him, and that they 
and his servants have pretty well stripped his house between them. 
He at once institutes proceedings in the local courts, obtains a 
judgment by default, and the two militaires are cast in damages for 
fifty thousand francs, which damages the count of course hopes to 
get some day or other. At any rate, thenceforward these fifty 
thousands francs become his fixed idea, and we hear no more of his 
claim against the domain. 

The count, being sadly in need of ready cash, sells his house — 
that house on which so large a portion of the proceeds from the 
sale of the famous Necklace had been squandered, to the postmaster 



362 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

of Bar-sur-Aube. The commodious stables serve admirably for the 
post-master's stud of horses, the elegantly decorated salons and 
chambres ct coucher furnish handsome reception and sleeping rooms 
for his guests. The great pavilion is reserved for the count's own 
use for the space of a year ; and here he, his wife — for he has 
married the charming young lady of eighteen — ^and his mother-in- 
law, for a time reside. At the commencement of 1796 they remove 
to what the count describes as a charming hermitage, surrounded 
by woods and waterfalls and lovely views, and where they farm their 
own land, and live a life of country ease. Several years — happy 
ones after a fashion, one would suppose — thus glide by, until at 
length the count's mother-in-law, weary of the woods and the water- 
falls and the charming views, urges him to go to Paris. Horses, 
bullocks, cows, pigs, poultry, and standing crops are forthwith sold, 
and to Paris the family betake themselves. Bonaparte is now first 
consul ; the count obtains an audience of him, presents a petition, 
and is told by the great man that he remembers seeing him years 
ago at Brienne. Nothing, however, comes of the petition, and spite 
of all his efforts the count cannot find the two oflScers against whom 
he has the judgment for fifty thousand francs. For some years he 
seems to live in Paris agreeably enough — no doubt on the resources 
of his mother-in-law — spending his time between the Palais Royal 
and the Boulevards, and ever on the look-out for the two militaires 
who plundered his house at Bar-sur-Aube. At last, by a lucky 
chance, he tracks out one of them, has him arrested, and after various 
legal proceedings, is disgusted at seeing him set at liberty on the 
ground that the government had granted a general amnesty for 
all acts done in service of the state at this period of national 
trouble. 

Year after year rolls by, and the count witnesses the establish- 
ment of the Empire, the fall of Napoleon, and his consignment to 
the Isle of Elba, and the return of the Bourbons to France, to bring 
about which latter event he took most energetic steps. Beugnot, 
whom the reader will remember as the young barrister of Bar-sur- 
Aube, and who has managed to keep his head upon his shoulders 
during the revolutionary whirl, finds himself appointed minister of 
police, having already had the title of count conferred upon him by 
Napoleon. De la Motte loses not a moment in appealing to his 



THE COUNT FINDS HIMSELF ALONE IN THE WORLD. 363 

former rival to serve an old friend and fellow-townsman, and 
Beugnot, knowing perfectly well the count's tastes, and precisely 
what he is fitted for, gets the farmer of the gambling tables in the 
Palais Royal — the leases of which Beugnot, in his capacity of 
police minister, had to renew — to give him some congenial berth. 
The count pretends that it was simply a pension of two hundred 
francs a month which he received from Bernard, the lessee of the 
gambling saloons, and that he accepted this with great repugnance. 
It is far more probable that he had to do something for his paltry 
pittance — act, for example, as decoy duck, and entice all the game 
he could to fowler Bernard's net. Whichever it may have been, 
post or pension simply, the count lost it before a year was over, 
when Napoleon was again ruler of France. 

At the second return of the Bourbons after the battle of Waterloo, 
Count Beugnot is named postmaster-general. De la Motte again 
seeks him out, and obtains a letter from him to Bernard, who re- 
instates him in his former position, and such as it was, the count 
manages to hold it for a couple of years or so, when he gets his dis- 
missal. Of course he flies off to complain to Beugnot, but Beugnot 
san do nothing for him; he however promises to see if he can serve 
the count in some other way. Eventually he appoints the count's 
sister, Madame de la Tour, postmistress at Bar-sur-Aube, but to the 
count himself he gives no sort of place. 

"At this epoch" (1817), writes the count, in dolorous strain, 
"I had just lost successively my sister-in-law (Mademoiselle de 
Saint-Remi), my wife, and my mother-in-law. My son, aged fifteen, 
had determined upon proceeding to Guadaloupe with the first bat- 
talion ordered to that colony. I was therefore alone in the world, 
without consolation, without help, without even the means of 
existence. Sent away from one hotel after another through default 
of payment, humiliated at being obliged to receive from my acquaint- 
ances the smallest pittance, that too frequently proved insufficient 
for my most pressing wants, I felt my courage forsake me, and all 
I thought of was putting an end to a life of so much misery."^ 

Being without the means of procuring a pistol, the count informs 
us that he resolved on throwing himself into the Seine. Instead, 

* " M^moires In^dits du Comte de la Motte," pp. 303-362. 



364 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

however, of doing this from one of the quays, or from the banks of 
the river in the immediate suburbs, he makes a long country 
journey to Franconville-la-Garenne, several miles away from the 
Seine at its nearest point. This gives him opportunity for reflection, 
and he abandons his suicidal intentions and returns to Paris deter- 
mined to present a petition to the king. It is curious to find the 
count in his old age returning to the old De la Motte de Valois 
practice of memorializing the crown. Times, however, had changed, 
and there were too many petitioners with real grievances pressing 
their claims upon the Bourbons for any of the De la Motte de Valois 
kith or kin to stand a shadow of a chance. As luck would have it, 
when the count reached Paris, after a tramp of at least twenty miles, 
he encountered a friend who gave him a good breakfast, and made 
him some fair promises which put him in spirits again. He now 
prepares his petition, and sends it to Marshal Beurnonville with a 
letter for the Duke de Chartres. In a few days the count receives 
a reply. The duke has forwarded his petition to his majesty, who 
has remitted it, accompanied by a recommendation of his own, to 
the minister of his household. The count rubs his hands at this 
good news, and anxiously waits for further intelligence. At last a 
friend undertakes to make inquiries for him at the ministerial 
bureau, and learns Sucre Dieu / that all petitions accompanied by 
special recommendations from the king are.stowed away in pigeon- 
holes on their receipt, and are never seen or heard of more. The 
count hastens to the marshal in a frantic state of mind ; the 
marshal does what he can to pacify him, and, as a matter of course, 
exhorts him to be patient. Patient ! poor comfort this to a man 
reduced "to live upon horse-beans and boiled potatoes without 
seasoning, and rarely tasting even bread, "^ and whose span of life 
is well-nigh drawn out to the allotted three score years and ten. 

The count, in his depth of misery again resolves upon suicide, 
and again sets forth on a long journey before executing his purpose. 
When night sets in he is almost twenty miles from Paris. Select- 
ing a favourable spot, the old man proceeds to put his design into 
execution. First of all he ties up his pocket-book, containing the 
letters of the duke and the marshal, in his handkerchief, to which 

* •* Memoires In^dits du Comte de la Motte," p. 365. 



THE COUlfT IN HIS OLD AGE COMTEMPLATES MATRIMONY. 365 

he attaches a heavy stone or two, and then sinks it in the stream. 
He next flings in his hat and cane, and prepares to follow them, 
but his courage forsakes him. Even at well nigh three score and 
ten the love of life proves too strong. In the dark waters before 
him the count sees, he says, only waves of blood, and suddenly 
visions of the hideous night of September 2nd rise vividly before 
his eyes. Rushing from the river's brink he gains a meadow, where 
he lays himself down and sleeps. On awaking he walks for up- 
wards of a couple of hours in the direction of Paris, and eventually 
finds himself on the road to Choisy. Seeing a light in one of the 
houses of the village he makes for it, and fortunately finds a man 
stirring, of whom he begs a draught of water, telling him that he 
has been attacked and robbed by thieves. The man, compassion- 
ating his miserable appearance, gives him a glass of wine instead, 
and a stout stick to help him forward on the road, and after a brief 
rest the count resumes his journey. He goes again to his old friend, 
the same who gave him the breakfast on his return from a similar 
expedition, tells him of his second adventure, and is again relieved 
by him. 

After having allowed his process against the two militaires to 
slumber for some years, the count revives it again, and 
applies to a matrimonial agent to take it up, but it being quite 
out of this man's line of business, he, on the tanner's principle of 
there being nothing like leather, suggests matrimony to the count 
as the best way of surmounting his misfortunes — informing him 
that he has an old dowager on his books who is mad to marry one of 
the ancien regime. The count is nothing loth ; so an interview is 
arranged, and an invitation to dinner follows ; and the count, got 
up for the occasion, presents himself at the old lady's house, of 
which he already looks forward to being master. He is shocked, 
however, at the number of children and grandchildren he is intro- 
duced to, and still more shocked at the want of manners of the 
little brats, and especially at an episode which transpires at the 
dinner-table, and which delicacy will not permit us to describe. 
The dinner, which was of the noisiest, in due course comes to an 
end, and with it the count's brief courtship of the dowager who 
was mad to marry a man of the ancien regime. 

For a year or two longer the old count drags on a miserable 



366 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

existence. He succeeds in getting a lawyer to take up his case 
against the two officers, and obtains from him an advance of five 
hundred francs. Five hundred francs ! why the old count must 
have been as delighted as he was in the old days when he came 
over from England with drafts on Perregaux for between two and 
three hundred times five hundred francs. This slice of luck puts 
him once more in clover for a time, but only for a time, for al- 
though the case prospers at the outset, it is finally decided against 
him, and starvation again stares him in the face. At this moment 
a dislocated limb forces the wretched old man to take refuge in the 
Hopital de la Charity, and here he remains for many weary months. 
" It was while I was in this hospital," says the count, " that M. 
Panisset came to see me, and found me on my bed of suffering, and 
made me certain proposals on the part of M. de Lavau, prefect of 
police."^ 

When the count was sufficiently recovered to come abroad, his 
first visit was to M. de Lavan, at the prefecture. "In 1825," says 
M. Feuillet de Conches, " a man bowed down by age and misery 
presented himself at M. de Lavan's bureau, and was received by 
the chief of his cabinet, a person of rare merit and distinguished 
character, M. Duplessis. It was Count de la Motte, who came to 
ask bread. M. Duplessis conversed with him respecting the Neck- 
lace affijir, and suggested that he should write his memoirs, in- 
cluding his reminiscences of this mysterious incident. La Motte 
thereupon wrote what was suggested, and with every appearance 
of good faith. His notes only confirmed the details which were 
already known. The queen's memory had no need of being cleared 
by a poor broken-down wretch who, after having helped to cast 
dirt upon her august fame by contributing to the atrocious calum- 
nies of his wife, now came forward to deny them under the stroke 
of misery, in presence of a royalist government. Still it was no 
less precious to have an authentic denial written by one of the 
principal actors in this too famous drama, an old man, worn down 
by misfortune, but retaining all his intelligence, understanding the 
character of the atonement, and accepting it, according to the 
opinion of M. Duplessis, with resignation and good faith. Out of 

* ** M^moires Li6dits du Comte de la Motte," p. 375(, 



DEATH OF COUNT DB LA MOTTB, 367 

respect to memories, become almost saint-like; out of respect, 
above all, to the daughter of Louis XVI., (to whom the resuscitation 
of the name of La Motte, upon which evil-disposed people would 
have been certain to comment, would have been the cause of con- 
siderable grief,) M. de Lavan thought it best to envelop in obscurity 
the few days this unfortunate being had still to live." ^ 

" The pretensions of M. de la Motte," remarks M. Campardon, 
were exceedingly modest. All he asked was an annuity of from 
three hundred to four hundred francs for life, and his admission 
into the Hospice de Chaillot." During the last years of his exist- 
ence, the count, who was commonly known by the nickname of 
" Valois-Coilier,"2 is said to have taken his daily stroll beneath the 
famous " Galeries de Bois " of the Palais Koyal, which stood where 
the present handsome Galerie d'Orleans now stands, and from 
being a favourite resort of the Russian officers belonging to the 
army of occupation had come to be derisively styled the Tartars' 
Camp. To the very last, therefore, the Count affected the neigh- 
bourhood of his old haunts, the gambling saloons of the Palais 
Koyal. Overwhelmed by infirmity and misery, he died in the 
month of November, 1831, having almost attained his eightieth 
year.^ 

' "Lettres et Documents In^dits de Louis XVI. et Marie- Antoinette," 
vol. 1. p. 176. 
^ "Journal de Paris," Nov. 12, 1831. 
3 "Marie-Antoinette et le Proems du Collier," par E. Campardon, p. 200. 



368 THE §TORT OF THE DIAMOND NECKX.ACE. 



XLIV. 

1786—1866. 

THE CROWN JEWELLERS. THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE. HISTORY 

AGAIN REPEATS ITSELF. 

To render our narrative complete, it is necessary we should inform 
the reader how it fared with the crown jewellers — Bohmer and 
Bassenge, " Au Grand Balcon," Rue Vend6me — and what was the 
final upshot of the famous Necklace case. In the first place the 
jewellers never received a single sou of the rich revenues of the 
abbey of Saint Waast — computed to produce 300,000 livres a 
year, and really yielding 225,000 livres, which had been assigned to 
them. Among their many creditors was M. Nicolas Deville, the 
king's secretary, to whom they owed 900,602 livres, and to whom 
they re-assigned the aforesaid revenues for the liquidation of their 
debt ; but unfortunately the Revolution came, and with it the sale 
of the property of the church for the benefit of the nation, so M. 
Nicolas Deville in his turn did not receive a sou. Meanwhile, 
Bohmer and Bassenge became bankrupt. The Cardinal de Rohan 
at his death left behind him a will by which he appointed the Prin- 
cess Charlotte de Rohan-Rochefort his residuary legatee, and she 
accepted administration of the estate on condition that she should 
not be held responsible to the creditors for any deficiency that 
might exist. 

At the time of the cardinal's decease he possessed consider- 
able landed property in Baden, and personal property to a large 
amount, consisting in part of money lent to his relatives, the 
Prince and Princess de Gu^men^e, and the Duke de Montbazonr, 
which the princess neglected to recover, and which was consequently 
lost. The princess sold the lands in Baden, and divided the proceeds 



HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF. 369 

among a few favoured creditors, but Deville obtained little or no- 
thing. After the Restoration — when all the property remaining 
unsold was returned to its former owners or their heirs, and an in- 
demnity was granted for what had been sold — the princess, it is 
said, neglected the interests of the creditors by omitting to recover 
the sums due to the cardinal's estate, and especially those owing by 
the Gu^men^e family. 

For this evident neglect of her duty as executrix, it was main- 
tained that the princess was responsible in the persons of her heirs, 
notwithstanding the conditions under which she had undertaken to 
administer the cardinal's will. In accordance with this view, so 
recently as the year 1864 an action was brought before the Civil 
Tribunal of the Seine by the heirs of M. Deville against the Prin- 
ces de Rohan-Rochefort, as representatives of the Princess Char- 
lotte de Rohan-Rochefort, to recover the principal sum for which 
the assignment of the Saint Waast revenues had been given, to- 
gether with cumulative interest, amounting in the whole to up- 
wards of 2,000,000 francs ; biit it was argued for the defence that 
the cardinal's estate had been properly administered by the prin- 
cess, that the plaintiffs had received the same share as the other 
creditors, and that they had no legal claim on the defendants. 
The tribunal took this view of the case, and accordingly rejected 
the plaintiff's demand with costs. Such was the end, after the 
lapse of nearly four score years, of perhaps the most famous cause 
celebre of all time, known in the annals of French jurisprudence as 
the Affaire du Collier. 

Just as the Countess de la Motte was, to some extent, the imita- 
tor of certain female swindlers of her own era, so has she found 
imitators in this our own time. Almost at the moment we are 
writing ^ Paris is talking about an act of swindling which bears a 
certain resemblance to the Diamond Necklace fraud. It seems 
that, in the month of February, 1866, a jeweller in Paris, M. 
Cramer, received a letter sealed with the Prussian arms, and signed 
" Comte de Schaffgotsch," chamberlain of her majesty the Queen 
of Prussia, in which he was asked if he was willing to undertake 
the execution of some models, in brilliants, of a new order which 

* This refers to the year 1866. 
2 A 



370 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

the Queen of Prussia intended to create. The jeweller immedi- 
ately accepted the commission, and several days afterwards there 
arrived some drawings understood to have been executed by the 
queen herself. The jeweller set to work forthwith, and in the 
course of a few weeks he transmitted to Berlin a magnificent cross 
surrounded with diamonds. In reply, he received a letter of con- 
gratulation accompanied by an order for a dozen more diamond 
crosses, w^ith a further promise of an order for the crown of the 
Prince of HohenzoUern as sovereign of the Danubian Principalities. 
The jeweller was the happiest of men. His fortune was evidently 
made ; but when and how was he to forward the crosses 1 The 
count replied that he was just then charged with a diplomatic 
mission, and would be at Cologne on a particular day, when the 
decorations could be awaiting him at the chief banker's in that 
town. 

The jeweller accordingly sends the crosses to the house of Oppen- 
heim and Co., informing them that they were to be delivered to the 
chamberlain of the Queen of Prussia. Some days afterwards the 
count informed the bankers by letter that he would pass through 
the town at a certain hour, and begged of them to forward to him 
the jeweller's parcel by the hands of one of their clerks. This was 
accordingly done, and the jeweller is subsequently informed by 
letter that the Queen of Prussia is delighted with the crosses, some 
more of which her majesty requires. 

But nothing was said as to payment, and the jeweller, uneasy in 
mind, did at last what he should have done at first. He called 
upon the Prussian ambassador at Paris, who informed him that he 
had been dealing with a knave, and that the letters were all forged. 
The jeweller, in a state of great consternation, sets out, under the 
advice of the ambassador, for Baden, where the Queen of Prussia 
then is, and obtains an audience of her majesty, by whom he is 
assured that she is an entire stranger to the whole story of the 
diamond crosses. 

On his return to Paris M. Cramer receives another letter from 
the pretended count, who insinuates this time that he might him- 
self be decorated with the order of the Red Eagle. The jeweller, 
however, was now on his guard. The police were communicated 
with, and they managed to draw the fox into the trap. He was 



END OF THE SCHAFFGOTSCH DIAMOND SWINDLE. 371 

found to be a man of good family, the son of an old general, and 
holding rank and title at the Prussian court, but whom a passion 
for gambling had ruined. The police seized, at the hotel where he 
put up in Paris, all the jeweller's letters, some diamonds detached 
from the crosses, with several visiting cards, having the name of the 
Count von Schaffgotsoh on them, together with a blank stamp bear- 
ing the arms of the Queen of Prussia. Owing possibly to the 
high connections of the culprit, the case would appear to have 
been compromised, for nothing more was heard of this last Diamond 
swindle. 



372 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



XLV. 

SUMMING UP OP THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 

The reader who has accompanied us step by step in our narrative, 
who has weighed our statements one by one, and noted the au- 
thorities on which these are based, is perhaps already satisfied of 
Marie- Antoinette's complete innocence of any kind of participation 
in the great fraud of the Diamond Necklace, and is convinced of 
the falsity of the charges brought against her with regard to her 
presumed intercourse with the Cardinal de Kohan. Should any 
doubt still linger in his mind, this will be removed, we imagine, on 
an examination of the annexed summary of facts. If we prove two 
things, that the queen was in no degree mixed up in the Necklace 
affair, and that she held no kind of intercourse with Madame de la 
Motte, then the whole of the countess's calumnies respecting the 
correspondence carried on between the queen and the cardinal, 
and their secret meetings at the Little Trianon, necessarily fall to 
the ground. 

Whatever may have been the follies, or say the crimes even, if 
you please, of which Marie-Antoinette was guilty, and which she 
more than expiated by her cruel death, complicity in any shape in 
this contemptible Diamond Necklace fraud is most certainly not 
one of them. 

In the first place, if the Countess de la Motte had been that in- 
timate confidant of the queen which she pretended she was, how- 
ever secret their relations may have been, she would still have been 
able to have brought forward some shadow of proof of their existence, 
some trifling souvenir, for instance, the former possession of which 
might have been traced to Marie-Antoinette, some little scrap of 
her handwriting, even though undated and unsigned, some single 
witness who had once seen her in the queen's presence, or in the 
queen's apartments, even though this had been a discarded servant, 
such as the "6o?me citoyenne" the "excellente patriote" Keine Millet, 



NOT A SCINTILLA OP EVIDENCE AGAINST THE QUEEN. 373 

who deposed against her royal mistress at her trial.^ Evidence 
directly compromising the queen in the Necklace affair would per- 
haps not have been forthcoming at the time of the trial before the 
Court of Parliament, even if it had been the interest of either party 
to have produced it ; but during the long years of the Kevolution, 
when the name and memory of Marie-Antoinette were objects of 
the bitterest hate and scorn, some one among the many individuals 
acquainted with the intrigues of the court might have been expected 
to have broken this forced silence, if from no other motive than 
personal vanity. 

And yet not a scintilla of evidence, true or false, against the 
queen, has come to light. In none of the memoirs or letters of the 
time, written by those who had opportunities of knowing something 
of the facts, do we find the slightest accusation against the queen 
with regard to the Diamond Necklace. No one has stated that she 
was ever seen either with the Necklace itself, or any of the loose 
diamonds composing part of it, in her possession. No one con- 
nected with the court, neither Besenval nor De Lauzun, both on 
terms of closest intimacy with, and both, to some extent, detractors 
of the queen, has stated that Madame de la Motte was ever once 
seen in the queen's company, but all who have made allusion to 
her, like Lacretelle, Besenval, and Madame Campan, have stated 
precisely the reverse.^ If she was in almost daily communication 
with the queen, as she pretended was the case, she must have been 
constantly seen by some of the inferior servants ; her friend the 
gate-keeper of the Little Trianon, for instance, or the valet de 
chamhre, Desclaux, who, when the queen had perished by the 
guillotine, and there was no longer any motive for preserving 
silence, would have talked of the affair for talking's sake. 

What, we may ask, could have been the motive that instigated 
Marie-Antoinette to obtain possession of the Necklace ? It was 
certainly not for the purpose of wearing it, for no one ever pre- 
tended to have seen it on her person. It was not with the object 
of selling it piecemeal, to stave off some pressing pecuniary diffi- 
culty, for the De la Mottes had the whole of the proceeds ; and in 
none of the contradictory statements made by them did they ever 

* See ante^ p. 64. 

* See ante, p. 61 e^ seq. 



374 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

pretend they were selling the diamonds on the queen*s behalf. 
The statement the comit made to the jewellers was, that he in- 
herited the diamonds from his mother; then their joint statement 
was, that they sold them on behalf of the cardinal; while their final 
statement was, that they were a present to the countess from the 
queen, the wage in fact for the dishonourable service which she so 
unblushingly asserts she rendered to Marie- Antoinette. Supposing 
the queen to have had some motive for possessing the Necklace which 
we cannot penetrate, would she have purchased it through such a 
doubtful pair of agencies as the Countess de la Motte and the 
Cardinal de Rohan? The French court's resources may have been im- 
poverished, still the royal credit was not yet at a discount, and even if 
the queen could not have acquired the Necklace on her own terms of 
credit, yet, considering the readiness with which fermier-general 
Beranger parted with his two hundred thousand livres, she would 
have had no difl&culty in raising whatever amount she required 
among men of his stamp, such as Baudard de Saint- James and others. 
As there is no direct evidence of the queen's having ever had the 
Necklace, or any of the diamonds belonging to it, let us see what 
indirect evidence there is that they were never in her possession. 

On the 1st of February, 1785, Bohmer and Bassenge deliver the 
Necklace to the cardinal, who states that it was handed over the 
same evening to some man professing to be 'the bearer of a note 
from the queen, by Madame de la Motte in his presence. The 
cardinal asserts the man to have been Retaux de Villette, and the 
countess's maid-servant deposes to having admitted him to her 
mistress's apartment just about the hour named. On the 8th of 
February, within the week, the negotiation with Bette d'Etienville 
is opened, and he is soon after applied to to go to Holland, and 
dispose of a large quantity of diamonds. On February 12, the 
countess commissions Villette to sell some of the diamonds which 
belonged to the Necklace, and on the 15th he is found offering 
them for sale. Early in March the count gives Furet, the clock- 
maker, two diamonds, on account of some clocks he purchased of 
him ; and shortly afterwards the countess is found selling diamonds 
to both Paris and Regnier, the jewellers, and leaving other diamonds 
with the latter to have reset. On the 10th of April the count goes 
to London, having with him, according to Gray, fully half of the 



THE DIAMONDS SOLD BY THE COUNT. 375 

diamonds belonging to the Necklace, and among them all the more 
valuable ones. Of this half, Gray states that he bought upwards of 
two-thirds. 

Count de la Motte, in his narrative, admits having sold to Gray 
what he calls the eighteen oval stones, also thirteen stones of the 
first quality, six stones forming the two trefoils, four stones be- 
tween the rose and tassels, sixteen stones from the tassels, in all 
fifty-seven stones. But Gray, in his declaration, states that he 
bought eight stones from the Jil autour (the row of diamonds that 
encircled the neck), the large pendant brilliant suspended to the 
centre festoon, eighty of the stones forming the esclavage, some 
(say one-half) of the brilliants forming the two bands at the sides, 
namely, forty-eight ; also four stones at the heads of the tassels, 
twelve stones from the lower part of the tassels, and thirty smaller 
stones also belonging to the tassels, in all one hundred and eighty- 
three .stones (instead of fifty-seven according to the count's ver- 
sion), and for which Count de la Motte received in money and goods 
about two hundred and sixty thousand livres. The count admits 
having given to Gray twenty-eight stones to set as drop earrings, 
twenty- two stones from the festoons to make into a necklace, and 
the button stone to set as a ring, in all fifty-one stones. Gray 
however declared that he received sixty-one stones for these 
various purposes. 

Madame de la Motte admits having sold to Paris first twenty- 
two and then sixteen stones, in all thirty-eight stones, for which 
she received thirty-one thousand livres. She moreover exchanged 
one stone with a Jew for some china pomade pots and gave 
Regnier a couple of large stones to mount in rings. The count 
admits having changed with Furet two of the festoon stones, for 
which he was allowed two thousand seven hundred livres, having 
sold or given to Regnier to mount sixteen stones from the tassels, 
twenty-four very small stones from the sides of the oval stones at 
the bottom of the tassels, twenty-eight stones encircling the oval 
pendants, two small stones on each side of the button, six small 
stones supporting the oval stones between the festoons, and twelve 
small stones immediately adjoining the ribbon at the top, in all 
eighty-eight stones. The eight stones encircling the button, and 
the four stones which supported the tassels, the count admits 



376 



THE STOBY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



having in his possession, but they were not at this time \\n- 
mounted.^ In addition to the foregoing we must not omit to note 
the forty small stones which were intrusted to Retaux de Villette 
to sell, and for which, no doubt, a market had been long since 
found in Paris. 

The diamonds, therefore, which the De la Mottes themselves 
admitted the possession of, and those which were proved to have 
been in their hands, seem to have been as follows : 

Sold to Gray 
Mounted by Gray ... 



Sold to Paris 

Exchanged with Furet 

Exchanged with a Jew 

Mounted by Regnier in rings 

Sold to, and mounted by E-egnier 

Remaining in Count de la Motto's possession 

Intrusted to Villette to sell ... 



183 

61 

38 

2 

1 

2 

88 

12 

40 

427 



As the Necklace contained six hundred and twenty-nine stones, 
and four hundred and twenty-seven of these were traceable to the 
De la Mottes, leaving simply two hundred and two, or less than 
one-third to be accounted for, it follows that Count de la Motte's 
statement, to the effect that the queen, or say anybody else even, 
had "kept two hundred and fifty-six diamonds, comprising the 
most beautiful part of the Necklace, with ninety-eight small 
diamonds, and the two finest diamonds of the first size,"^ in all 
three hundred and fifty-six diamonds, was, like the generality of 
his statements respecting the Necklace, a gross lie. 

The diamonds parted with seem to have realized the following 
amounts : 



Gray 


... 


260,000 livres or francs. 


Paris 


... 


31,000 „ 


Furet 


... 


2,700 


Regnier 


... 


27,000 



320,700 hvres, or about £12,800. 



Madame de la Motte, in her second memorial, puts down the 

* See ante, p. 148 for particulars of the stones which the Count brought 
back with him to France. " See antCy p. 150. 



THE TOTAL AMOUNT RECEIVED FOR THE DIAMONDS. 377 

amount received from Paris at 38,000 livres and from Regnier, in 
money and goods, 58,000 livres, equivalent to an increase of 
38,000 livres or upwards of £1,500 to the foregoing amount, 
bringing up the sum total to £14,300 sterling. If to this we 
add the value of what the count calls the button stone, for which 
one thousand guineas were offered him in England, and of the two 
large brilliants set by Regnier as rings, and valued by him at twenty- 
five thousand livres, together with the value of the necklace and 
earrings set by Gray, of the diamond-mounted bonbonnierej'- of the 
pair of drop earrings set by Regnier, of the eight diamonds en- 
feircling the button, and the four others which supported the 
tassels, together with the forty small stones which Villette tried to 
sell, we shall arrive at a gross total little short of £20,000. 

The Countess de la Motte states that, during one of her con- 
frontations with the Cardinal de Rohan, she said out loud to him, 
in presence of the judges : " Ever since these gentlemen have 
been putting interrogatories to us, you know that neither you nor 

^ Beugnot in his "M^moires" furnishes us with a description of this 
honbonnUre, to which, it will be remembered, both the Count and Countess 
make allusion. (See ante, pp. 153, 223-4.) It would appear, from what Beug- 
not says, that it was never in the cardinal's possession, though it had been 
got up to play a part in the fraud which was being practised upon him. 
Beugnot insinuates that had the officers of justice been more expeditious in 
their movements, they would have found in Madame de la Motte's jewel- 
box this honbonnidre, which he tells us he had admired there a dozen times. 
"It was," remarks he, "a black tortoiseshell box, surrounded by large 
diamonds, exactly alike, and of the finest water ; the subject on the top of 
the box was a rising sun which dispersed the mists on the horizon ; you 
touched a spring, and under this first subject was found a portrait of the 
queen, clothed in a simple white robe (without any other ornament on her 
head than her hair, raised up in the fashion of the period, and two earrings 
falling on her neck one on either side), and holding a rose in her hand, 
precisely in the same attitude and costume as the character played by 
Mdlle. d'Oliva in the park of Versailles. They would, moreover, have 
found in this box two of the cardinal's letters, from which they would have 
seen that the De la Mottes had made him hope for it, as a token of recon- 
ciliation with the queen, and would have seen, too, that they had given 
him all the details of this magnificent jewel. "—Memoir es du Comte Beug- 
not, vol. i. p. 89. 

Beugnot is apparently wrong in supposing that this honbonniere escaped 
the vigilance of the officers of justice, as among the documents relating to 
the "Affaire du Collier," preserved in the National Archives (X2 2576), is a 



378 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

I have told them a word of truth :"^ so far as she was concerned, 
possibly about the truest thing she ever said. To show how un- 
worthy of credit the generality of her statements at the trial were, 
we will run rapidly through her examinations, and pick out simply 
such of her assertions as are contradicted by independent testi- 
mony, or which she subsequently contradicted herself. Of those 
numerous statements made by her which the cardinal maintained to 
be false, we shall say nothing. 

Lie 1. That she had never represented she had access to the 
queen (p. 220).^ She told Grenier that she had reinstated the 
cardinal in the good graces of the queen, who dared refuse her 
nothing (p. 237). 

2. That she had never shown any letters purporting to be from 
the queen, for she had never been honoured with any such letters 
(p. 220). Putting aside D'Oliva's evidence on this subject (p. 237), 
we have that of Grenier, who expressly states that she showed him 
a letter which she said had been written to her by the queen, but 
would not allow him to read it (p. 237). 

3. That all she knew of D'Oliva was from casually meeting her 
in the Palais Royal (p. 220). She never met her in the Palais 
Royal, as she herself subsequently admitted. 

4. That she had never told D'Oliva she was a lady of the court, 
on terms of intimacy with the queen (p. 221). 

5. That she had never shown D'Oliva letters purporting to have 
been written by the queen (p. 221). If not, why, at the confronta- 
tion, did she wink at D'Oliva, and make signs to her, at this part 
of her evidence ? (p. 237). 

memorandum without heading, date, or signature, which sets forth, that 
"among the effects found at Bar-sur-Aube in the house of Madame de la 
Motte, was a box with a portrait of the queen holding a rose," which por- 
trait, it goes on to say, the Sieur Malus, treasurer of finance, pretended he 
had orders to withdraw, but having been challenged by the Sieur Guichard, 
the procureur-gen^ral's substitute, to produce his orders, he could only 
bring forward a letter addressed to him by the contr61eur-g6n6ral ; where- 
upon the Sieur Guichard notifies that on the morrow he will render an 
account of the above facts to the procureur-g6n6ral, who there is every 
reason to believe will bring them to the notice of his majesty's keeper 
Off the seals and the Baron de Breteuil. 

' " M6moires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte," p. 39. 

= These references are to the present volume. 



SOME OP THE countess's LIES. 379 

6. That the entire story of dressing up D'Oliva to personate the 
queen, and of the midnight meeting in the park, was a foolish and 
incredible fable, most wretchedly concocted by the cardinal (p. 221). 
Subsequently she admits its truth, but pretends the meeting was a 
mere pleasantry got up to quiet the cardinal (p. 245). Afterwards, 
in her " Memoires Justificatifs," she says it was all arranged at the 
suggestion of the queen (p. 87). 

7. That she never gave one thousand or three thousand livres, 
or any money whatever, to D'Oliva (p. 221). Putting aside D'Oliva's 
circumstantial statement, with dates and figures (p. 95), Villette 
admitted having taken her three hundred livres on behalf of the 
countess, and Father Loth proved having taken another four hun- 
dred livres to her for her upholsterer. 

8." That she never received either the fifty thousand or the 
hundred thousand livres which the Baron de Planta conveyed to 
her from the cardinal (p. 221). The Baron de Planta swore that he 
handed her both these amounts (p. 236). If she did not receive 
them, how else did she support her extravagant expenditure at this 
period of her career? Her stories about the liberal gifts she had 
received from distinguished persons were one by one proved to be 



9. That the contract was never given to her to obtain the 
queen's approval and signature to it (p. 222). 

10. That the said approval and signature were not written by 
any person she knew (p. 222). Villette confessed to having written 
them by her direction (p. 244), and thereby admitted he had been 
guilty of forgery, which he would hardly have done had it not 
been the truth. Although Madame de la Motte adhered to her 
denial of these facts at all her examinations, in her " Life " (vol. i. 
p. 345) she admits that Villette forged both signature and 
approuves in her presence. 

11. That the story about the cardinal bringing the Necklace to 
her house, and the casket containing it being handed over to a 
person who came with a note professing to be from the queen, was 
absolutely false from beginning to end (p. 223). She subsequently 
admits the truth of all this in her "Memoires Justificatifs." (See 
p. 127.) 

12. That she received two boxes of diamonds from the cardinal 



380 THE STORT OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

in the presence of Cagliostro (p. 226). Cagliostro denied this, and 
Villette emphatically stated that Cagliostro was entirely innocent 
of any complicity in the Necklace affair (p. 245). 

13. That the Count de la Motte went to England to sell the 
diamonds on behalf of the cardinal, and having done so, handed 
the cardinal on his return drafts for one hundred and twenty-one 
thousand livres and various articles of jewellery received in ex- 
change (pp. 226-7). The countess in her " Life " says not a word 
of this, but asserts (vol. i. p. 355 et seq.) that she received the 
diamonds as a present from the queen, and showed them to the 
cardinal, by whose advice she sent her husband abroad to sell them 
on her own, certainly not on the cardinal's account. 

14. That she neither knew nor suspected that any of the 
diamonds sold by her and her husband formed portions of the 
Necklace (p. 228). She had previously stated the diamonds sold 
did belong to the Necklace. 

15. That she never gave thirty thousand livres to the cardinal 
to be handed to the jewellers (p. 228). For what purpose, then, did 
she borrow thirty-five thousand livres from her notary on the very 
day ? It is true she states that she borrowed this amount to lend 
to Madame de Crussol, but why did she not call Madame de Crussol 
to prove the fact ? 

16. That she had no such transactions-with Regnier as those 
deposed to by him (p. 236). When Regnier produces his books in 
support of his statement, she admits the whole of them, and attri- 
butes her former denial to her bad memory. 

17. That Villette did not write any letters to the cardinal in the 
name of the queen (p. 245). Villette himself confessed to having 
written a considerable number (p. 244). 

18. That she had previously deposed to having seen a letter in 
the hands of the cardinal, purporting to be from the queen, and 
saying, " The jewel is superb " (p. 259). She had never deposed to 
anything of the kind. 

19. That Laporte deposed she had told him a hundred times 
she would have nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace 
(p. 260). No such assertion as this is to be found in Laporte's 
deposition. 

Of recent writers on the subject of the Diamond Necklace whose 



M. LOUIS BLANC*S AEGUMENTS EXAMINED. 381 

versions of the afifair are considered damaging to the reputation of 
the queen, M. Louis Blanc/ is the one to whom the most frequent 
reference is made. But M. Louis Blanc, no matter in whatever 
direction his sympathies may lie, is too honest a writer to wilfully 
misrepresent the truth. He does not assert, therefore, that the 
queen was a party to the fraud, although he insinuates that there 
are certain grounds for believing she was mixed up with the trans- 
action. We propose, therefore, to examine the arguments which 
he brings forward inculpatory of the queen, and to see how far 
these are capable of being refuted. 

In the arguments which M. Louis Blanc advances to prove that 
an intimacy subsisted between Madame de la Motte and the queen, 
and that the latter carried on an intrigue with the Cardinal de 
Rohan, and was a party to the purchase of the Necklace, although 
he does not exactly maintain the genuineness of the letters said to 
have passed between the queen and the cardinal, he insinuates as 
much, and entirely ignores the fact of Villette's confession that 
these letters were written by him. The same may be said with 
regard to Madame de la Motte's presumed intimacy with Marie- 
Antoinette. She boasted, observes M. Louis Blanc, of her relations 
with the queen, which she would not have done had there been no 
foundation for them, for fear of the imposture being discovered; 
which is equivalent to saying that people will not tell lies for fear 
they should be found out, a proposition which the amount of false- 
hood current in the world proves to be untenable. 

M. Louis Blanc dwells upon the fact of Madame de la Motte 
having desired the jewellers to be very cautious in their dealings 
with the cardinal, but he says nothing of the excellent use she put 
this to in her defence, and which proves she had an ulterior object 
in acting as she did. In like manner she made all she could of 
the circumstance of her having declined a commission on the sale 
of the Necklace. But what did she want with a commission ? — she 
meant to have the Necklace itself. To receive a commission from 
the jewellers for having cheated them out of their property was a 
little too much for even the Countess de la Motte. 

The box containing the Necklace, says M. Louis Blanc, was 
given to Lesclaux [Deselaux], the queen's valet de chambre. The 
^ See his "Histoire de la Revolution Fran9aise," vol. ii. 



382 THE STORY OE THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

supposition is, that lie was known to the cardinal, who parted with 
the box without taking any receipt for it. 

The cardinal declared that Villette was the person to whom the 
box was given ; and Villette was certainly there at the time, for 
the countess's femme de chamhre proved having opened the door to 
him, and admitting him to Madame de la Motte's apartment. It 
is true that a striking difference existed between the individual 
described by the cardinal and R^taux de Villette ; but this proves 
but little, for if the countess could trick out a Palais Royal 
courtesan with sufficient art to palm her off upon the cardinal as 
Marie-Antoinette, whom the cardinal did know, she would cer- 
tainly have been competent to transform the forger Villette into 
the fair-complexioned, light-haired, slim valet de chamhre Desclaux, 
whom the cardinal did not know. 

M. Louis Blanc states Madame de la Motte informed the cardi- 
nal that the queen would acknowledge the receipt of the Necklace 
the next day by a secret sign, which was given, an important fact 
admitted by the Abbe Georgel himself. 

AVe do not find that Madame de la Motte made any such state- 
ment. She says the queen wrote a note on the following day ac- 
knowdedging the receipt of the Necklace.^ As to the secret sign no 
one besides the Abbe Georgel, whose narrative M. Louis Blanc admits 
is full of grave errors, says a word about it, not even the cardinal. 

As the time approached for the payment for the Necklace, Ma- 
dame de la Motte, says M. Louis Blanc, manifests no anxiety. 

She manifests every anxiety. She borrows thirty-five thousand 
livres from her notary on the security of her jewels, thirty thou- 
sand of which she takes to the cardinal for him to hand to the 
jewellers as interest on the purchase money, and thereby induce 
them to w^ait. She neither dines, nor sups, nor sleeps at home on 
that day, her anxiety is so great. 

The cardinal declared to M. Baudard de Saint-James, says M. 
Louis Blanc, that he had seen in the queen's hands the seven hun- 
dred thousand livres destined for the first payment on account of 
the Necklace. Bohmer, too, informs Madame Campan that the 
cardinal had told him he had seen the queen take the money from 
a portfolio in a Sevres porcelain secretary. 

* " Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself," vol. i. p. 349. 



M. LOUIS BLANC'S ARGUMENTS EXAMINED. 383 

Presuming the cardinal to have said what is stated, it proves 
nothing against Marie-Antoinette. It was an exaggeration on his 
part of something which Madame de la Motte had told him ; in 
plain language a lie, told by him to reassure the jewellers and 
Baudard de Saint-James, who was one of their largest creditors. 

M. Louis Blanc tells us that the cardinal hides Madame de la 
Motte, for fear she should let out the secret of the correspondence, 
and presses her to fly beyond the Rhine. 

All this is denied by the cardinal, and his word is equally worthy 
of credit with that of the Countess de la Motte, whoge statement 
M. Louis Blanc has adopted. 

M. Louis Blanc mentions as a point in the Countess's favour, that 
after the arrest of the cardinal she refuses to fly. 

It was three o'clock in the morning when, worn out by excite- 
ment and fatigue, she had great need of rest, and when she did not 
believe the danger so imminent as it proved to be, that she refused 
to fly. What she would have done a few hours later, had she not 
been arrested in the meanwhile, is another question. 

According to M. Louis Blanc the authorities refused to arrest 
Count de la Motte. 

The police agents who arrested the countess had no instructions 
to arrest her husband, whose complicity in the fraud was not then 
suspected. The count, however, took good care not to allow them 
a isecond opportunity, for in a very few hours he made for the coast 
as fast as post horses could convey him. M. Louis Blanc corn- 
plain's that Madame de la Motte's explanations of the confessions 
of D'Oliva and Villette, and of the deposition of Gray the jeweller, 
are not allowed to figure in the report of the trial. 

M. Louis Blanc has fallen into a grave error here. The 
countess's explanations of these different matters figure at full 
length in the verbatim reports of her two examinations, preserved 
in the National Archives.^ Gray's declaration, too, published in 
the cardinal's " Pieces Justificatives," was, we should imagine, filed 
by the registrar of the Court. 

The silence of the queen on receiving the jeweller's letter of 
July 12th is regarded by M. Louis Blanc as evidence of her guilt. 

^ No. X2 2576. See also the Appendix to Campardon's " Marie- Antoi* 
nette et le Proc6s du Collier," pp. 271-389. 



384 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Marie -Antoinette read this letter with no particular attention, 
and burnt it, says Madame Campan, the moment afterwards in her 
presence. There was a certain mystery in the language — the 
Necklace itself not being even mentioned — which, though it 
might have been clear enough to the queen had she been the 
purchaser of the jewel, was otherwise full of ambiguity. Besides, 
she had a firm conviction that Bohmer was somewhat touched in 
his head — a conviction, by the way, very generally entertained by 
persons about the court, and openly alluded to during the dis- 
cussion on the sentence in the Court of Parliament (p. 268). 

The cardinal's well-known diplomatic skill, says M. Louis Blanc, 
made it impossible for him to have been deceived. 

Diplomatic skill counts for little against the arts and wiles of an 
intriguing woman, and one with whom, it must be remembered, 
her dupe was madly infatuated; for does not Beugnot tell us that, 
whilst glancing over some of the hundreds of letters from the 
Cardinal de Rohan to Madame de la Motte, he saw with pity "the 
ravages which the delirium of love, aided by that of ambition, had 
wrought on the mind of this unhappy man ? "^ This is the key- 
note to much that may seem inexplicable in the cardinal's conduct 
in the latter stages of the Necklace affair. 

According to M. Louis Blanc Madame de la Motte endeavours to 
screen the queen. 

Whatever she may have done at her preliminary examination, 
she did not screen the queen before the Court of Parliament, but 
pretended she had seen in the cardinal's possession two hundred 
letters written to him by Marie-Antoinette. All the countess's 
aim was to screen herself, no matter whom she sacrificed to attain 
this object. 

M. Louis Blanc says that the Count de la Motte proclaims his 
intention of speaking the truth, but M. de Vergennes will not 
consent to his being brought to Paris. 

When the trial was over, the count made a great parade of the 
evidence he could have given. He was too good a judge, however, 
to come forward at the trial. M. de Vergennes, moreover, 
could hardly have refused his consent to the count's coming to 

* See antCf p. 179. 



£85 

Paris out of consideration for the queen, as he had long been her 
secret enemy, and was an admitted partisan of the cardinal's. 

It is asserted hjM. Louis Blanc that the Princess de Lamballe visits 
the Salpetriere, and gives alms to the superior for the countess. 

M. Louis Blanc does not state whence he derived this informa- 
tion, which we find repeated by another writer on the dubious 
authority of an anonymous journal written prior to March, 1801.^ 
The countess herself, however, makes no allusion to this circum- 
stance either in her " Memoires Justificatifs " or in her "Life." 

Finally, M. Louis Blanc asserts that the Count de la Motte is 
paid two hundred thousand livres to suppress the publication of 
the countess's " Memoires Justificatifs." 

No authority is given for this statement, and we doubt if any 
such large amount, or indeed anything approaching to it, was ever 
paid. Still, whatever may have been the sum paid for the sup- 
pression of these " Memoires," even if the queen were a party to 
the transaction, it proves really nothing against her. Our own 
criminal records abound in instances of victims submitting to ex- 
tortion for a long series of years, to save themselves from threatened 
exposure — to escape being accused of some degrading crime of 
which they are known to have been perfectly innocent. 

It is no part of our plan to enter upon a defence of Marie- 
Antoinette against those other accusations which the bitter hatred 
of individuals and the fierce passions of the time laid to her charge. 
One of her ablest defenders has said, that " all of youth, all of the 
woman, all of humanity in the unfortunate Queen of France, is ex- 
plained by these words of the Prince de Ligne : ' The queen's pre- 
tended gallantry was nothing more than a sentiment of profound 
friendship for a few individuals and a queen's womanly coquetry, 
that aimed at pleasing every one.'" Time, which rights all things, 
is at last doing Marie- Antoinette justice, and "she whom patriotism 
accused, and demagogism condemned, humanity has well nigh 
absolved." 

^ M. de Lesctire in "La Princesse de Lamballe, Sa Vie — Sa Mort," pp. 
180-190. 



2 B 




DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 
WITH ITS **ESCLAVAGE" AND TASSELS; 

Based on the description given in the " Pifeces Justificatives pour le Cardinal 
de Hohan," corrected by careful comparison with a facsimile of the 
drawing of the Necklace prepared by the crown jewellers. 



1. The yil autour (the row of diamonds encircling the neck), com- 
posed of seventeen brilliants, weighing from 18 to 33 grains each. 

Count de la Motte says thirteen of these stones were bought by 
Gray (see ante, p. 146), but the latter states that he only purchased 
eight.. Two were set by Regnier as rings (see ante, p. 140). 

2. Forty-one brilliants, forming the three festoons suspended 
from the fil autour above, weighing from 12 to 20 grains each, 
estimating one with another. 

Twenty-two of these were set by Gray, as a necklace for the 
countess (see ante, p. 147) ', two were exchanged with Furet ; one 
was set as a ring for the count ; the remainder were sold to Paris 
(see ante, p. 148). 

3. Two pendant brilliants hanging within the side festoons, each 
weighing 50 grains. 

The count says these were bought by Gray. Together with the 
other pendant brilliants, they formed part of the eighteen oval stones 
(see ante, p. 144). 

4. Two pendant brilliants hanging between the large and smaller 
festoons. 

The count says these were also bought by Gray (see antey p. 144). 

5. Six small stones supporting the above. 

These were among the diamonds delivered by the count to Regnief 
(see ante, p. 148). 



388 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

6. A pendant brilliant, suspended from the fil autour above by a 
trefoil, and weighing 34 grains. A stone of superb quality. 

The count says this was bought by Gray (see ante, p. 144). 

7. Fourteen brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 7f carats. 

Delivered by the count to Eegnier (see ante, p. 148). 

8. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, each weighing 13 grains. 

These with the stones of the second trefoil, must have been the six 
diamonds which the count speaks of as forming the rose of two oval 
ones, and which he says he exchanged with Gray (see ante, p. 146). 

9. A pendant brilliant, at the lower part of the centre festoon, 
hanging from a trefoil, and weighing 45 grains. 

Bought by Gray (see ante, p. 144). 

10. Fourteen brilliants, surrounding the above, weighing 10 
carats. 

Delivered by the count to Regnier (see ante, p. 148). 

11. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, weighing from 17 to 20 
grains. Stones of extreme beauty. 

Exchanged by the count with Gray (see ante, p. 146). 

12. One hundred and twenty-eight fine brilliants, forming the 
esclavage from the fil above to the knots of the two centre tassels ; 
the stones all matching, and weighing 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12 grains 
each. 

Gray bought eighty of these. 

13. Sixty-two small brilliants, inserted in the esclavage, weighing 
3 and 4 grains each. 

1 4. A brilliant, forming the centre of the rose in the middle of 
the esclavage. A very handsome stone, without the slightest flaw, 
weighing 45 grains. 

This was the button stone valued at one thousand guineas, which 
Gray set for the count as a ring (see ante, p. 147). 

15. Eight brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 12 and 13 
grains each. 

Ketained by the count. 



APPENDIX. 389 

16. Ninety-six brilliants, forming the two sidebands: the stones 
assorted, and weighing 6, 7, 8, and 9 grains each. 

Half, or thereabouts, of these stones, were bought by Gray ; twelve 
were delivered by the count to Eegnier (see ante, p. 148). 

17. Forty-six small brilliants, inserted in the said bands, weighing 
2 and 3 grains each. 

These must have been the stones intrusted to Villette to dispose of. 

18. Eight brilliants, at the heads of the tassels. Superb stones 
matching with each other, and weighing 14 and 15 grains each. 

Four of these were bought by Gray. 

19. Twelve pendant brilliants, hanging at the bottom of the 
tassels, remarkable for their whiteness, and weighing from 16 to 
26 grains each. 

Bought by Gray. They formed part of the eighteen oval stones 
(see ante, p. 144). 

20. Twenty-four very small stones at the sides of the above. 

Delivered by the count to Regnier (see ante, p. 148). 

21. Sixteen round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 
11 to 14 grains each. 

Delivered by the count to Regnier (see ante, p. 148). 

22. Twelve round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 
8 to 10 grains each. 

23. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 
6 to 8 grains each. 

Gray states that he bought the whole of these. The count says he 
only parted with sixteen (see ante, p. 147). 

24. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 
4 to 6 grains each. 

Twenty-eight of these were given to Gray, to mount as drop ear- 
rings (see ante, p. 147). 

25. Fifty-two small round-shaped brilliants in the tassels. 

Twenty-two of the largest of these were sold to Paris ; others the 
count had mounted for a watch-chain (see ante, p. 148). 



S90 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



A SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS WHICH THE COUNTESS 
DE LA MOTTE PRETENDED HAD PASSED BETWEEN THE 
QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. 



FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. 

April 28, 1784. 

"I read with indignation the manner in which you have been 
deceived by your niece. I never had any knowledge of the letters 
you mention to me, and I question whether they ever existed. 
The persons you complain of have in reality contributed to your 
disgrace, but the methods they used to effect it were very different 
from those you suppose. I have forgotten all, and require of you 
never to speak to me of anything that has reference to what is 
past. The account which the countess has given me of your be- 
haviour towards her has made a stronger impression on me than all 
you have written to me. I hope you will never forget that it is to 
her you are indebted for your pardon, as also for the letter I write 
to you. 

*' J have always looked upon you as a very inconsistent and in- 
discreet man, which opinion necessarily obliges me to great re- 
servedness ; and I own to you, that nothing but a conduct quite 
the reverse of that you have held can regain my confideuce and 
merit my esteem." 

FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN. 

Ma?/ 6, 1784. 
" Yes ; I am the happiest mortal breathing ! My master pardons 
me : he grants me his confidence ; and, to complete my happiness, 
he has the goodness to smile upon his slavcj and to give him public 
signals of a right understanding. Such unexpected favours caused 
in me so great an emotion, that I for a moment was apprehensive 
lest the motive should be suspected by the extraordinary answers 
which I made. But I soon recovered when I saw my absence of 



APPENDIX. 391 

mind was attributed to quite another motive ; upon which, I as- 
sumed an air of approbation, in order to divert observation from 
the real object. This circumstance is a warning to me, to direct 
henceforth ray words and actions in a more prudential manner. 

" I know how to appreciate all the obligations I am under to the 
charming countess. In whatever situation I may chance to be, I 
shall be gratefully mindful of all that she has done in my behalf. 
So much for that. All depends on my master. The facility he has 
of making beings happy, makes his slave wish for the means of 
following his footsteps and being the echo of his good pleasure." 

FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. 

Jfayl5, 1784. 

"I cannot disapprove of the desire you have of seeing me. I 
could wish, in order to facilitate you the means, to remove all 
obstacles that oppose it ; but you would not have me act impru- 
dently, to bring about more compendiously a thing which you must 
be persuaded you will shortly obtain. 

*' You have enemies who have done you much disservice with the 
minister^ (the countess will tell you the meaning of that word, 
which you must use for the future). The turning of them out 
cannot but be advantageous to you. I know the changes and 
revolutions that are to happen, and have calculated all the circum- 
stances which will infallibly bring forward the opportunities which 
I desire. In the interim be very cautious, above all, discreet ; and, 
as there is no foreseeing what may happen, be reserved, and greatly 
perplexed in what you hereafter write to me." 

FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN. 

July 29, 1784. 
" My adorable master^ permit your slave to express his joy for 
the favours you have conferred upon him. That charming rose lies 
upon my heart. I will preserve it to my latest breath. It will 
incessantly recall to me the first instant of my happiness. 

"In parting from the countess, I was so transported, that I 
found myself imperceptibly brought to the charming spot which 
you had made choice of. After having crossed the shrubbery, I 

» The King. 



392 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

almost despaired of knowing again the place where your beloved 
slave threw himself at your feet. Destined, no doubt, to experi- 
ence during that delightful night none but happy sensations, I 
found again the pleasing turf, gently pressed by those pretty little 
feet. I rushed upon it as if you had still been there, and kissed 
with as much ardour your grassy seat, as that fair hand which was 
yielded to me with a grace and kindness that belong to none but 
my dear master. Enchanted, as it were, to that bewitching spot, 
I found the greatest difficulty in quitting it ; and I should certainly 
have spent the night there, had I not been apprehensive of making 
my attendants uneasy, who knew of my being out. 

" Soon after my return home, I went to bed, but pressed for a 
considerable time a restless pillow. My imagination, struck with 
your adorable person, was filled during my slumbers with the most 
delightful sensations. Happy night ! that proved the brightest 
day in my life ! Adorable master, your slave cannot find expressions 
to describe his felicity ! You yesterday witnessed his embarrass- 
ment, his bashfulness, his silence, the natural effects of the most 
genuine lOve ! You alone in the universe could produce what he 
never before experienced. Enveloped in these pleasing sensations, 
I sometimes imagine it to be only a visionary felicity, and that I 
am still under the influence of a dream ; but, combining all the 
circumstances of my happiness, recalling to mind the enchanting 
sound of that voice which pronounced my pardon, I give way to an 
excess of joy, accompanied with exclamations, which, if they were 
overheard, would argue distraction. Such is my condition, which 
I deem supremely happy, and wish for its continuance the re- 
mainder of my life. 

"I shall not depart till I have heard from you." 

FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. 

August 16, 1784. 
" An observation made to me yesterday, with an air of curiosity 

and suspicion, will prevent my going to-day to T (Trianon), 

but will not, for all that, deprive me of seeing my amiable slave. 

The minister sets out at eleven, to go a-hunting at R. 

(Rambouillet) : his return will be very late, or, to speak more 
properly, next morning. T hope, during his absence, to make 



APPENDIX. 393 

myself amends for the tediousness and contradiction I have ex- 
perienced for these two days past. Imprudent conduct has 
brought me to that pass, that I cannot, without danger, remove 
objects that are displeasing to me, and who haunt me. They have 
so thoroughly studied me, and know so little how to feign and 
dissemble, that they attribute my change to nothing but a dis- 
cretion, which to them appears blameworthy ; it is therefore very 
essential to be on one's guard, to avoid all surprise. 

" The daring question put to me, persuades me that my con- 
fidence has been abused, as well as my good-nature, and that ad- 
vantage has been taken of circumstances to fetter my will. I 
have a way of coming at information concerning it, but I will first 
consult thee. As thou wilt play the principal part in the scheme 
I have devised, we must needs agree as well on this point as we 

did last Friday on the S . This comparison will make thee 

laugh, no doubt ; but, as it is a just one, and I desire to give thee 
a proof of it to-night, before we talk of serious matters, observe 
exactly what follows : Do thou assume the garb of a messenger, 
and, with a parcel in thy hand, be walking about at half-past 
eleven under the porch of the chapel : I will send the countess, 
who shall serve thee for a guide, and conduct thee up a little 
back staircase to an apartment, where thou wilt find the object of 
thy desires." 

FEOM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. 

January 15, 1785. 
" If it had not been my intention there should be a mystery in 
the purchase of the jewel, I certainly should not have employed 
you to procure it for me. I am not accastomed to enter thus 
into treaty with my jewellers, and this way of proceeding is so 
much the more contrary to what I owe to myself, as two words 
were sufficient to put me in possession of that object. I am sur- 
prised that you dare to propose to me such an arrangement ; but 
let there be no more said about it. It is a trifle that has occa- 
sioned me to make a few reflections, which I will impart to you 
when opportunity oflers. The countess will deliver to you your 
paper. I am sorry you have given yourself so much trouble to no 
purpose." 



394 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL, 

January 29, 1785'. 

" How is this ? Aflfectation with me ? Why, my friend, ought 
people in our predicament to act under restraint, to seek for 
shifts, and deal with insincerity ] Dost thou know that thy reserve, 
and thy false pride, drew upon thee the letter thou hast received ; 
and that but for the countess, who has told me all, I should have 
attributed that pretended arrangement to quite a different motive. 
Fortunately, all is cleared up. The countess will deliver thee the 
writing, and explain the motives by which I have been actuated 
in this matter. As I am supposed ignorant of the confidence 
thou hast shewn her, as also of the token of trust that thou wilt 
give her, by laying before her our particular engagements, that is 
a more than sufficient reason to make thee secure, and remove all 
difficulties. Thou wilt keep the writing, and deliver it to none 
but me. 

"I hope, notwithstanding my disorder, to see thee before the 
holiday. I expect the countess to-morrow. I will tell her 
whether I shall be able to receive from my slave the object which 
had nearly set us at variance." 

FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CAJIDINAL. 

July 19, 1785. 

" I believe I have informed you of the disposal of the sum which 
I destined for the object in question, and that probably I should 
not fulfil the engagements till my return from Fontainebleau. 
The countess will remit to you thirty thousand livres, to pay 
the interest. The privation of the capital is to be taken into con- 
sideration, and this compensation will make them easy. 

" You complain, and I say not a word : a very extraordinary 
circumstance ; time will, perhaps, acquaint you with the motive 
of my silence. I do not love suspicious people, especially when 
there is so little reason for it. I possess a principle I never will 
recede from. Your last conversation is very opposite to what you 
related to me at a preceding period. Reflect upon it, and if your 
memory serves you faithfully, by comparing the eras, you will 
judge what I am to think of your pressing solicitations." 



APPENDIX. 395 



AN EPITOME OF THE "FIRST PROCES -VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE 
OF THE DOCUMENTS TENDING TO ESTABLISH CRIML 
NALITY. Sep. 9, 10, 11, 1785."^ 

{Preserved in, the National Archives— Section, Proces du Collier, Series X% 

JSfo. 18,576.) 

The proces verbal in question is drawn up in the quaint legal 
phraseology of the ajicien regime, and abounds not only in the 
tautological repetition and iteration in which lawyers have ever de- 
lighted, but in queer sounding scraps of the obsolete jargon of 
eighteenth century procedure. 

It commences by setting forth that in the year 1785 on Friday 
the 9 th September at three in the afternoon, Jean Baptiste 
Maximilien Pierre Titon, king's councillor in his High Court of 
Parliament, commissioner in the present case, assisted by Maitre 
Etienne Fremyn, barrister of the court, and one of the chief clerks 
of the criminal registry of the said court, was applied to by 
Maitre Pierre de Laurencel, one of the deputies of the king's 
procureur-general. The latter stated, with the customary pro- 
lixity of gentlemen of the long robe, that by virtue of royal letters 
patent, issued at St. Cloud on September 5th, empowering the 
High Court to take cognizance of the facts therein set forth and 
all matters appertaining thereto, and in accordance with a decree 
pronounced by the said High Court on September 7th, empowering 
the procureur-general to proceed "against the authors, abettors, 
participators, accomplices and adherents as well of the transaction 
itself as of the forgery of the queen's handwriting and signature," 
it had been ordered that the documents tending to prove 
criminality or to throw light on the case which should be produced 

^ It should be mentioned that with a single exception — a letter of Madame 
de la Motte's, which is given on page 187 et seq. of this work — none of the 
documents herein referred to are now in existence. They are believed to 
have been destroyed during the Revolution. 



396 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

bj the king's procureur-geueral, should be deposited at the criimnal 
registry of the court, and should there remain, and that a proces- 
verhal descriptive of the said documents should be drawn up in 
presence of the deputies of the king's procureur-general. Both 
classes of documents had been duly deposited by the king's pro- 
cureur-general at the criminal registry of the court on the 7th 
September. Consequently he (Maitre de Laurencel) now appeared 
to assist in drawing up the descriptive proces-verbal of the docu- 
ments tending to prove criminality only. 

Titon, having duly certified this application, gives orders to 
Maitre Fremyn to at once produce the said documents tending to 
prove criminality. 

Here follows a minute description of each of the bundle of 
fifteen documents produced. The size of the paper, the number 
of pages written on, the number of lines on each page, the words 
with which each page begins and finishes, the style of the signa- 
tures, the fact whether or not there were any interlineations, or 
words struck out or underlined ; all these particulars are minutely 
recorded in every instance. 

The first document, entitled "Memoire instructif," written on 
two sheets of paper ci, la Telliere, contains four full pages and three 
lines and three words on the fifth page, all apparently written by 
the same hand, and is signed "Bohmer, Basseuge, le Card, de 
Rhoan," (sic). It is noted that there is nothing scratched out or 
written over, but that on the twenty-eighth line of the second page, 
are added in parentheses and in a smaller hand the words " which 
was the 1st February." 

The second document is " a declaration made to the king by 
Mgr. the Cardinal de Rohan " consisting of fifteen lines written 
on one side of a large sheet of letter paper, beginning with the 
words, " A woman whom I have believed " and terminating 
"Md. la Mothe d. Vallois." This must be the statement written 
by the cardinal at the suggestion of the king immediately prior to 
his arrest. 

The third is a receipt dated the 30th July 1785, for the sum of 
30,000 livres, written on half a sheet of letter paper folded in two, 
and signed Bohmer & Company. 

The fourth is an envelope, consisting of a large sheet of letter 



APPENDIX. 397 

paper, outside of which is written "This paper, in case of my death, 
belongs and must be handed to M. Bohmer, jeweller to the Queen. 
. . . this 18th February 1785." 

The next document which is worthy of a more detailed notice 
is described in the following minute terms in the proces-verhal. 

" The fifth document, inclosed in the said envelope and headed 
' Propositions and conditions of price and payment,' is written half 
way across the front and the back of the first leaf of a sheet of 
letter paper. The first page on the front side containing eighteen 
lines, the first of which consists of the word * Proposals ' and the 
eighteenth of the words ' ith, one might facilitate,'' remarking that 
below the third line of the said first front page, is a flourish and 
that at the margin of the said page, which is left blank, is written 
three times the word ^approved' in a very fine handwriting, 
dififering from that filling the page ; namely, the first time in front 
of the sixth line, the second time in front of the eleventh line, and 
the third and last time in front of the sixteenth line. The second 
page on the back containing twelve lines, the first of which con- 
sists of these words ' calm in the matter,' and the twelfth line of 
these ' later on,' remarking likewise that on the marginal half of 
the said back page is written twice in a very fine handwriting the 
word ' approved,' the first time in front of the third line, and the 
second in front of the tenth : remarking likewise that at the side 
of the said writing, written in three lines on half the right hand 
margin, are these words, ^Accepted the above arrangements, the 
2Wi January 1785,' and below the signature, 'Bohmer & Company,' 
and still lower down a flourish : remarking besides that on the half 
margin to the left in front of the word ' accepted ' are written these 
words, ' Approved, Marie-Antoinette de France,' in a very fine hand- 
writing, apparently similar to the other words ^approved' contained 
in the said document, and below a dash of the pen, and still lower 
down a flourish; that besides there is no erasure, interlineation, or 
word written above another in the said document." 

The sixth is a short letter of three lines and two words, ap- 
parently from the cardinal to Bohmer, as it commences, " I should 
like, M. Bohmer," and bears a memorandum in another hand, 
beginning, "Received this letter from monseigneur." It is ad- 
dressed to "Monsieur, Monsieur Bemer {sic), jeweller to the Queen, 



398 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Rue de Vendosme, near the Tennis Court at Paris," and is counter- 
signed " Card, de Kohan," and to it is attached a seal unbroken, 
and apparently bearing the arms of a cardinal. 

The seventh is a letter of ten lines dated Paris the 1st February, 
1785, commencing, "Monsieur Bohmer, her Majesty," and signed 
by the cardinal. 

The eighth is a more lengthy document, filling three and a half 
pages of paper d, la TeLliere. It is a memorandum dated Paris, 
August 17th, 1785, signed Ste. James (who thus spells his 
name), and appears to explain his financial transactions with 
Bohmer. It is carefully noted with regard to this document that 
although there are neither erasures, interlineations, nor words 
written over others, that certain specified portions are underlined. 

The ninth, enclosed in the former, is a copy of Bohmer's ac- 
knowledgment of his debt to Saint James, and is dated the 16th 
March, 1785. 

It being now nine in the evening, the completion of the proces- 
verhal was adjourned to the following day, when, with the same 
formality and a due amount of signing and countersigning Maitre 
de Laurencel renewed his application, and Councillor Commissioner 
Titon ordered that Maitre Fremyn should comply with it. Where- 
upon the last named at once produced 

The tenth document, filling four full pages of paper a la TellierCf 
containing a statement of the cardinal's examination in the Bastille, 
dated the 18th August, and conjointly signed "Le Card, de Rohan, 
Thiroux de Crosne, Delauney and Delachapelle." The proces-verbalj 
which gives as usual the words at the beginning and end of every 
page and the number of lines, notes that the two first words of the 
sixth line of the first page and sixth word of the seventh line of 
the third page are struck out, and that the sixth word of the 
thirteenth line of the fourth page is underlined. 

The eleventh " is a document on a sheet of large letter paper 
containing three pages, the first of which of twenty-three lines 
begins with these words * Confidential Declaratioii of Monseigneur 
the Cardinal de RohaUj and finishes at the twenty- third line by 
these, Hn the month of July 1784, /.' The second page is of 
twenty-five lines, the first beginning with these words, * met in 
effect at the hour appointed^ and the twenty-fifth ending with these. 



APPENDIX. 399 

HUat they have even wishedJ "We have remarked that the seventh 
word which seems to be the word * woman^ is struck out, and there 
has been substituted for it above, the word ^ person.^ We have 
also remarked in the fourth line, between the word Hhis* and the 
word ^person J is written by way of insertion and above, the word 
^safne* We have further remarked that between the eighteenth and 
the nineteenth line are written as an interlineation the words, * my 
absurd,' and that in the nineteenth line the fifth word is struck 
out. The third and last page is of twenty-one lines, the first 
beginning with these words ' to refuse and that I have forced them 
to accept,' and the twenty-first line ending with these, the Sieiirs 
Bohmer' We have remarked that in the tenth line, the ninth 
word is written over, that in the eleventh (line) the third and 
fourth words are likewise written over, that the last word of the 
sixteenth line is also written over, that in the seventeenth line 
the first and the third words are also written over. We have 
further remarked that under the twenty-first line of the said third 
page are three lines, and the date of the year 1785, forming the 
fo.urth line, in a different handwriting from that comprising the 
above written document, the first of which lines begins by these 
words, * / approve the writing^ and the third line ends with these, 
^ done at the Bastille this 20th August,' and below the signature 'Le 
Card, de Rohan,' with flourish." 

The twelfth consists of fourteen lines written on the first page of 
a sheet of paper a la Telliere beginning " I the undersigned con- 
fess," and ending " of diamonds," beneath which is the signature, 
"Louis Jean Marie Desclaux." This is the Lesclos or Desclos, 
belonging to the queen's household, to whom Madame de la Motte 
pretended she handed the casket containing the Necklace. 

The thirteenth, filling two and a half pages of paper a la Telliere 
and commencing, " To-day the seventeenth August," appears from 
words referring to drawers and articles of furniture, quoted as 
commencing and ending the second page, as those of "^)roces- 
verhal," with which it concludes to have been a proce's-verhal of the 
search made at the Palais-Cardinal, for the grand almoner's papers. 
It bears the signature of the Cardinal de Eohan, the Marshal de 
Castries, the Count de Vergennes, the Baron de Ereteuil, and the 
lieutenant of police, Thiroux de Crosne. 



400 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

The fourteenth, closed and fastened to the preceding with a 
blue ribbon, fills two pages of a small sheet of letter paper, and 
commences, " Send for B. this morning," but the few words quoted 
afford no clue as to what it refers to. It is merely signed with a 
flourish, and headed on the first page "No. 1." 

The fifteenth, also closed and fastened to the two preceding 
ones with blue ribbons, is likewise written on a small sheet of 
letter paper. It is headed " No. 2," and the words quoted — " The 
last price shall be fixed," "in six months," "shall be carried to," 
and "in the afternoon," — seem to indicate some note referring to 
the purchase and delivery of the Necklace, found in all probability 
amongst the cardinal's papers. 

These documents being thus described were numbered in suc- 
cession, initialled and deposited in the criminal registry at nine in 
the evening, the proces-verhal being again signed by Titon, De 
Lauren eel and Fremyn. 

On the following day, the 11th, the commissioners again met to 
examine three documents which Titon had previously weeded out 
from a bundle of papers already classed as merely tending to 
throw light on the case, in order that they might be added to those 
tending to prove criminality. 

" The first," written on two sheets of paper a la Telliere, which 
we have fastened together with red thread, contains six pages and 
six lines. It commences with the words, "Observations to the 
Court by M. de la Csse de Valois," and the sentences preserved are 
" to go into Champagne," " the Prince raised alarms," " to calm his 
agents," "like madmen and that he would take us as far as the gate 
of Meaux," " they do not serve to make the king believe all that 
I wish," "and have begged the Prince to tell him," "I have never 
shown any one," " my pension," " and perhaps my unhappy husband 
despairing at having wedded," "if I have wrongs, his Majesty." 
Every word altered, struck out or inserted, is noted by the com- 
missioners, and attention is called to the fact, "that in the date 
of the year, 1776, the second 7 seems to have been written over 
the figure G," and that at the bottom of the seventh page are 
written the following words, " Jeanne Marie De Valois de St. Remy, 
ensuite de Caze Csse de la Motte, de la p^niciere," and lower down, 
"at the Bastille, Saturday, 29th August, 1785." 



APPENDIX. 



401 



The second, written on a sheet of paper ^ la Telliere^ and con- 
taining a page and a half, is the letter which we have quoted on 
page 187 e^ seq. 

The third and last " is a note which seems to us to have been 
written by the hand of the said De la Motte, at the back of the 
list of linen given by her to her washerwoman, the twenty-fifth 
August, which note has been initialled and signed by the said De 
la Motte, and by the Commissioner Chenon, and runs as follows, 
' M. Filliau of Bar sur Aube, being at my house four months ago, 
sold for me to a large jeweller, his cousin, to the amount of 30 
thousand livres, which I also handed to Monseigneur. There 
were 22 small ones at 500 livres a-piece, . . . then 52 at 400 livres 
a-piece, which I begged M. Filliau to sell for me, imknown to my 
husband.' To which last document we have pasted a piece of white 
paper to inscribe the number of the said document, and to append 
our signature and that of the said Maitre de Laureucel, as well as 
those that may have to be appended in course of the instruction." 

The proces-verhal is then formally wound up and signed by Titon, 
De Laurencel, and Fremyn. 



2o 



402 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 



SOME SATIRICAL VERSES, 

TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR GAVE RISE. 

(From ** Correspondance Secrete In^dite sur Louis XVI., Marie- 
Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville.") 



Voici venir le temps pascal, 
Que pensez-vous du cardinal ? 
Opinez-vous qu'il chantera 
Alleluia] 

Le Saint-P^re Tavait rougi, 
La cour de France I'a noirci, 
Le Parlement le blanchira : 
Alleluia I 

Que Cagliostro ne soit rien, 

Qu'il soit Maltais, Juif ou Chretien, 

A I'affaire que fait cela? 

Alleluia ! 

De Versailles comme k Paris, 
Tons les grands et tons les petits 
Veulent ^largir Oliva : 

Alleluia ! 

Planta, du fond de sa prison, 
Demande grace au bon Baron, 
Qui lui dit qu'il j restera : 

Alleluia [ 



APPENDIX. 403 



De Valois le conte insens^, 
Par un Collier fut commence, 
Un Collier le finira : 

Alleluia ! 

Survient Villette recrivain, 
Confus d'avoir prete sa maiu 
Comme La Motte I'exigea : 
Alleluia ! 

Pour d'Etienville au teiut vermeil, 
A la Greve un coup de soleil 
Sur r6paule le frappera : 
Alleluia ! 

Voila I'histoire du proces 
Qui de Paris cause I'acces ; 
Nous dirons, quand il finira : 
Alleluia 1 



II. 

Illustre prisonnier, tirez-nous d'embarras : 

Etes-vous cardinal, ou ne I'etes-vous pas 1 

Helas ! serait-ce vrai, que la cruelle Rome 

Ait pu dans sa fureur degrader un saint homme ? 

Un Rohan ! Repondez. Vous detournez les yeux ; 

Ah ! vous pleurez le sort de vos tristes cheveux. 

Vous voila done reduit k la simple calotte ! 

Ce n'est pas le seul mal que vous ait fait La Motte. 



IIL 

Target, dans un gros m^moire, 
A traite tant bien que mal 

La sotte et facheuse histoire 
De ce pauvre cardinal, 



404 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, 

Oil sa verbeuse olequence 
Et son froid raisonnement 

Prouvent jusqu'k Tindecence 
Que c'est un grand innocent. 

J'entends le s6nat de France 

Lui dire un de ces matins : 
Ayez nn pen de decence, 

Et laissez la vos catins. 
Mais le Pape, moins honn^te ; 

Pourra dire k ce nigaud : 
Prince, k qui n'a pas de tete, 

II ne faut pas de chapean. 



IV. 

Cagliostro, homme savant, 
Enseigne an Prince la magie. 

lis n'etaient que deux seulement, 
Mais par tour de sorcellerie, 

Les voila trois : Qui I'eut predit ? 
De surprise otant sa calotte, 
Le bon cardinal vit La Mgtte, 

Et La Motte le vit. 



V. 

Malgre ce gros factum si souvent refondu, 
Et I'arr^t de la cour si lestement rendu, 
L'innocente candeur du prelat de Saverne 
Brille corame un etr . . au fond d'une lanterne. 



VL 

Des Valois La Motte est la fille. 

On n'en pent douter : 

Car un arret va lui faire porter 
Les armes de sa famille. 



APPENDIX. 405 



MEMORIAL 

CONCERNINa THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DB VALOIS, SPRUNG FROM THE 
NATURAL SON WHOM HENRI IL, KING OF FRANCE, HAD BY NICOLE 
DE SAVIGNY, LADY AND BARONESS DE SAINT-REMI. 



ARMS OF THE HOUSE DE SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS. 

Argent^ a fess azure charged with three fleurs-de-luce or. 



Henri the Second, King of France, had by Nicole de Savigny,^ 
Henri de Saint-Remi, who follows. The said Nicole de Savigny, 
styled High and Puissant Lady, Lady of Saint-Remi, Fontette, du 
Chatellier and Noez, married Jean de Ville, Knight of the King's 
Order, and made her last will on the 12th of January, 1590, ii) 
which she declared, " That the late King Henri the Second ha(3 
made a donation to Henri Monsieur, his son, the sum of 30,00C' 
crowns sol. which she had received in 1558." 

II. Degree. Fourth Progenitor.'] Henri de Saint-Remi, called 
Henri Monsieur, is styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord 
of the Manors and Baron du Chatellier, Fontette, Noez and 
Beauvoir, Knight of the King's Order, Gentleman of the Bed- 
chamber in Ordinary, Colonel of a regiment of horse, and of foot, 
and Governor of Chateau-Villain; married by contract October 31, 
1592, articled at Essoyes, in Champagne, Dame Christiana de Luz, 
styled High and Puissant Lady, relict of Claude de Fresnay, Lord 
of Loupy, Knight of the King's Order, and daughter of the Hon. 
Jacques de Luz, also Knight of the King's Order, and of Lady 

^ "Genealogical History of the House of France," by Father Anselme, 
vol. i. p. 136; "History of France," by the President Henault, third 
edition, in quarto, p. 315. 



406 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

Michelle du Fay, Lord and Lady of Bazoilles ; died at Paris on the 
14th of February, 1621, and had of his marriage the son who 
follows : 

III. Degree. Third Progenitor.'] Renatus de Saint-Remi, styled 
High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord and Baron de Fontette, 
Gentleman in Ordinary to the King's Bed-chamber, Captain of a 
hundred men-at-arms, died March 11, 1663, and had married, by 
articles entered into April 25, 1646, at Essoyes, Jacquette Brevau, 
by whom, amongst others, he had the following son : 

IV. Degree. Great Grandfather.'] Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de 
Valois, styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord of Fontette, 
Major of the regiment of Bachevilliers' horse, was born September 
9, 1649, and baptized at Fontette, October 12, 1653; married first 
to Demoiselle Reine Marguerite de Courtois, and a second time by 
articles passed on January 18, 1673, at St. Aubin, in the Bishopric 
of Toul, to Demoiselle Marie de Mullot, daughter of Messire Paul 
de Mullot, and of Dame Charlotte de Chaslus, died before the 14th 
of March, 1714; and of his second marriage had a son, who follows : 

V. Degree. Grandfather.] Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de 
Valois, styled Knight, Baron de Saint-Remi, and Lord of Luz, was 
baptized at Saint Aubin-aux-Auges, in the Bishopric of Toul, the 
12th of April, 1678, served the King during ten years, as garde-du- 
corps to his majesty, in the Duke de Charost's company, quitted 
tlie service to marry by articles of the 14th of March, 1714, 
Demoiselle Marie Elisabeth de Vienne, daughter of Nicolas 
Frangois de Vienne, Knight, Lord and Baron de Fontette, Noez, 
(fee, counsellor to the King, president. Lieutenant-general in 
matters both civil and criminal, in the royal Bailiwick of Bar-sur- 
Soine, and of Dame Elisabeth de Merille, died at Fontette, on the 
3rd of October, 1759; and of his marriage had two sons: first, 
Pierre Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de Fontette, born at Fon- 
tette, June 3, 1716, received in 1744, a Gentleman cadet in the 
regiment of Grassin, where it is assured he was killed in an en- 
gagement against the king's enemies ; and second, Jacques, who 
follows : 

VI. Degree. Father.] Jacques ' de Saint-Remi de Valois, first 



APPENDIX. 407 

called de Luz, and afterwards de Valois, styled Knight, Baron de 
Saint-Remi, was born at Fontette, December 22, 1717, and 
baptized January 1, 1718. In his baptismal attestation which 
contains his name and condition; his father, thereat present, is 
called and styled, "Messire Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de 
Valois, Baron de Saint-Remi ;" and his aunt, who was one of the 
sponsors, is therein called " Demoiselle Barbe Th^r^se, daughter of 
the late Messire Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de Valois." Both of 
them signed their names to it, Saint-Remi de Valois. He 
espoused, in the parish church of St. Martin, at Langres, on the 
14:th of August, 1755, Marie Jossel, by whom he already had a 
son, who follows : and died at the H6tel Dieu, in Paris, February 
16, 1762^ according to the register of his death, in which he is 
called and styled, "Jacques de Valois, Knight, Baron de Saint- 
Remi." 

VII. Degree. Procreating.] Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, 
born February 25, 1755, and baptized the same day in the 
parochial church of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the city of Langres ; 
acknowledged and baptized by his father and mother in the act of 
their espousals of the 14th of August, of the same year.^ 

Jeanne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born at Fontette, July 22, 1756. 

Marianne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born also at Fontette, October 
2, 1757. 

We, Antoine Marie d'Hozier de Serigny, Knight, Judge at Arms of 
the Nobility of France, Knight Honorary Grand Cross of the Royal 
Order of St. Maurice of Sardinia, do certify unto the King, the truth 
of the facts certified in the above Memorial drawn up by us from 
authentic records. 

In witness thereof we have signed the present certificate, and 
caused it to be countersigned by our Secretary, who has put to it 
the seal of our arms. 

Done at Paris, on Monday, the 6th day of the month of May, in 
the year 1776 : 

Signed D'Hozier de Serigny : 
By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France. 
Signed Duplesis. 

^ In accordance with French law this proceeding rendered him legitimate. 



408 



THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 



We, the undersigned Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France, 
&c., do certify that this copy of the present Memorial is conformable 
to the record preserved in our repository of Nobility ; in witness 
whereof we have signed it, and caused it to be countersigned by 
our secretary, who has affixed to it the seal of our arms. 

Done at Paris, on Thursday, the 13th day of the month of 
October, in the year 1785, 

Signed D'Hozier db Serigny : 
By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France. 
Signed Duplesis. 




APrENDi:s. 4:09 



ABSTRACT OF THE DECLARATION 

MADE BY BETTE d'eTIENVILLE IN THE NECKLACE AFFAIE. 



When the examination of the parties accused of being concerned 
in the Necklace fraud had terminated, an individual calling him- 
self Bette d'Etienville, detained for debt in the prison of the 
Chatelet, wrote to the Procureur-G6n6ral to announce that he had 
revelations to make in connection with the affair whereby a new 
inquiry on the part of this official became necessary. 

Jean-Charles- Vincent de Bette d'Etienville, bourgeois of Saint- 
Omer, living nobly and on his own resources, as he described himself 
as doing, was an adventurer of the worst kind ; his name was only 
Bette, and it was from pure fancy that he had made the fantastic 
addition of ' d'Etienville ; ' he was not a bourgeois of Saint-Omer, 
but simply a surgical student of Lille ; neither did he live nobly 
and on his own resources, since his father was only a workman, a 
stone-quarrier, in fact; and with regard to himself, he had 
espoused at Lille, against the wish of his family, an old maid sixty 
years of age, whose property he wasted in a very short space of 
time, when he abandoned her, and repaired to Paris to solicit the 
privilege des almanacks chantants. Such were the antecedents of 
this individual, who made before the examining magistrates a 
declaration of which the following is the substance ; and which 
gave an entirely new interest to the Necklace affair, producing, as 
it did, almost a score of declarations in reply, and numerous 
memorials drawn up with the view of confuting it. On a very 
slight substratum of fact Bette d'jfitienville managed to raise a pile 
of falsehood whicK served to complicate for a time in the eyes of 
the bewildered public the already sufficiently intricate affair of the 
Necklace. 

About the 8th of February, 1785, Bette made the acquaintance, 
at the cafe de Valois, of a Sieui* Augeard, who called himself the 



410 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

steward of a Dame de Courville. This Aiigeard proposed to him 
to mix himself up with a marriage ; he spoke to him of a lady who 
had formerly had a child by a very great lord, and who desired to 
give a position to her offspring. The lady wished to marry a 
gentleman of title. Bette refused at first to have anything to do 
with the business, but the steward having promised him numerous 
advantages, he eventually consented, and set fortli in search of a 
husband. He first addressed himself to the Count Xavier de 
Vinesacq, captain of infantry, and chevalier of the order of Saint- 
Louis, to whom he was in the habit of selling eau de Cologne ; but 
this individual, distrusting the morality of the intermediary, gave 
an absolute refusal to the proposition made to him. 

On the Monday in Holy Week of the same year, a certain Baron 
de Fages, belonging to the body-guard of the Count de Provence, 
sought out Bette, and proposed himself for the marriage in 
question; he added that he was a real gentleman, and that his 
titles to that rank had been left by him with the Abb^ Mulot, 
Grand Prior of Saint- Victor. D'Etienville went to the abbe, re- 
ceived from him the titles in question, and gave them to Augeard, 
that he might show them to the lady of quality ; she was satisfied 
with them, and some days afterwards intimated that she accepted 
the Baron de Fages for her future husband, and that the union 
should take place after Quasimodo (the Sunday after Easter). 

When this epoch had arrived, Augeard told Bette that, owing 
to various circumstances, the marriage must be delayed ; but as 
Bette did not appear to believe what he said, Augeard proposed to 
take him to the lady, exacting from him, however, a promise of the 
most profound secrecy. Three days before Quasimodo, Augeard 
conducted him to a house, where he saw a lady about thirty-four 
years old, of a fine figure, but inclined to embonpoint, and having 
black eyes. This lady confirmed what Augeard had said, and 
after having required secrecy from him, confided to him that the 
child's father was, after the princes of the blood, one of the greatest 
lords in the kingdom, and that this affair would be the means of 
making Bette's fortune. The next day Bette went again to the 
lady's, accompanied by Augeard, and found there a person, whom 
he did not know, who was sometimes called Marsilly, and some- 
times Councillor, and who had directed the affair throughout its 



APPENDIX. 411 

entire course. Marsi'lly made inquiries of him respecting the 
Baron de Fages, his conduct, manners, &c., and then went out. 
The lady now showed d'Etienville her jewels and unmounted dia- 
monds, which belonged, she told him, to a riviere of diamonds 
which she used formerly to wear, and which had been valued at 
432,000 livres (francs). She added that she wished to sell them 
before her marriage, but had reasons for not disposing of them in 
Paris, and proposed to him to go to Holland with some one she 
would name, and to sell them there ; from the proceeds of this 
sale 100,000 livres were to be given as a bridal present to the 
Baron de Fages. - But Bette, fearful of arrest for being found in 
possession of such valuable property, refused, and communicated 
all these details to the Baron de Fages, on the part of Madame 
Mela de Courville, as the lady styled herself. Bette, who felt dis- 
quieted at the mystery which seemed to overhang these interviews, 
took particular notice of the house and street to which Augeard 
conducted him, and on going there alone, discovered that the 
house was Madame de la Motte's, and that the Cardinal de Rohan 
was in the frequent habit of going there. Feeling at that time 
persuaded that Madame de la Motte and the Dame de Courville 
were one and the same person, and being unaware that Madame de 
la Motte was married, he remained quiet; but events soon un- 
deceived him, since the public prints apprised him of Madame de 
la Motte's arrest at Bar-sur-Aube, on the very day that he was at 
Arras with the Dame de Courville. 

The day of Quasimodo having passed, the marriage was fixed for 
the 10th or 12th of April. At this period Augeard told Bette that 
the Cardinal de Rohan wished to see him. Bette betook himself to 
the Dame de Courville's where he found Marsilly and the Cardinal ; 
the latter attired in a grey frock-coat, and a round hat with gold 
tassels. The Cardinal expressed to him his satisfaction at the zeal 
he had shown, and assured him that he would charge himself with 
his future fortune. After having spoken to Marsilly and the Dame 
de Courville in private, he came back to him and told him that, for 
reasons of the highest importance, the marriage could only take 
place from the 1st to the 15th of July. He charged Bette to inform 
the Baron de Fages of this ; whereupon a letter was written im- 
mediately, according to Marsilly's dictation. The Baron de Fages 



412 THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

accepted the delay, and it was agreed that, in order to compensate 
him, in case the marriage should not take place, the Dame de Cour- 
ville should bind herself to pay him 30,000 livres, in three separate 
sums : the first on the 15th of August ; the second on the 15th of 
October; and the third on the 15th of December. The bond was 
given to Bette, sealed with the Dame de Courville's seal; he, afraid 
of losing it, gave it to the Abbe Mulot, who was perfectly willing 
to take charge of it. It was at this period that the Dame de 
Courville told him in confidence that she was a baroness, and of 
high birth, and ex-canoness of a chapter in Germany, where she 
first became acquainted with the Cardinal, who had seduced her ; 
that she had afterwards lived with him, and had a child by him ; 
that she had followed the Grand Almoner to Paris, Strasbourg, into 
Germany, to Vienna, and elsewhere ; and lastly, that she was the 
Baroness de SoUebercg, or Salleberg. The Baroness spoke German, 
Italian, and French well. In the month of May, 1785, she made 
fresh proposals to Bette to go and sell her diamonds in Holland ; 
but on his refusing, she no longer insisted. Some time after she 
told him she had sold a part of them, and had had the others 
mounted ; she also showed him a snuff-box, with her portrait sur- 
rounded with brilliants, a watch and chain set with diamonds, a 
ring, and a solitaire, begging him to speak of thenj to the Baron de 
Fages, for whom they were intended. On the 1st of July, Bette 
asked Madame de Courville if she thought the marriage would take 
place on the 15th ; she replied in the affirmative, and added that 
the Cardinal would remain in Paris for the purpose. Nevertheless, 
the 15th went by, and Madame de Courville, observing Bette's in- 
quietude, promised to procure him a new interview with the Car- 
dinal. On the 18th or 20th of July, about eleven o'clock at night, 
he met the Cardinal at Madame de Courville's, dressed this time in 
a short violet frock-coat. He told Bette not to blame him if the 
marriage did not take place, since it would be entirely Madame de 
Courville's fault. Then this lady assured him that the Cardinal 
had promised her 500,000 livres (francs) on her marriage, and that 
until the 500,000 livres were counted down, she would proceed no 
further in the matter. Bette took care to inform the Baron de 
Fages of all that transpired at this interview. 

About this time, Madame de Courville went to pass a few days 



APPENDIX. 413 

in the country, and invited Bette, as well as the Abbe Mulot and 
the Baron de Fages, to visit her. The marriage ought to have 
taken place on the 12th of August, the day appointed for the pay- 
ment of the 500,000 livres. On the 7th, Bette returned from 
Chantilly, where the Baron de Fages then was, when he received a 
note requesting him to go to Madame de Courville's. Arrived 
there, he found her in tears, when she asked him to return the 
bond for 30,000 livres signed by her. Bette thereupon withdrew 
it from the Abbe Mulct's possession, and returned it to her. 
Madame de Courville immediately tore it up and burnt it, adding, 
that if she did not leave Paris she was lost ; she begged him to go 
with her, promising that her absence should not be long. Overcome 
by her entreaties, he agreed. Madame de Courville then sent him 
to engage a place in the diligence for Saint-Omer, in the name of 
Wanin, this being the name he passed under in her house. She 
observed to him that it would not be prudent for them to leave 
together ; that she would travel in her chaise, and would stop at 
Arras, where she would await him. Arrived there, she told him 
that she was going to leave France, and that, if he was prudent, he 
would do the same, because he was mixed up in a grave business, 
the Cardinal having been arrested the previous evening and con- 
ducted to the Bastille ; she even offered to take him with her to 
London. Bette then inquired the causes of the Cardinal's de- 
tention, and learnt from Madame de Courville that he had bought 
a Diamond Necklace, and had introduced into the negotiation for 
the purchase the name of the Queen, and that his aim was to pro- 
cure the 500,000 livres necessary for her marriage portion, and to 
put himself in funds, and that the diamonds she had shown him, 
and was showing then at that Yorj moment in a box, formed part 
of the Necklace in question. 

Bette refused to accompany Madame de Courville to London, for 
fear lest this journey might compromise him. He asked her for 
payment of the 30,000 livres ; she replied that the demand was a 
just one, and that she would satisfy it at Saint-Omer, if he did not 
consent to follow her. But one time when they had stopped to 
change horses, he all at once saw Madame de Courville returning 
towards Paris, in company of a man clad in a blue frock-coat. He 
believed she was arrested, and on his arrival at Saint-Omer the 



414 THE STORY OP THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

trulh of the Cardinal's misadventure was confirmed to him. He, 
for his part, betook himself to Dunkerque, where he remained till 
the 16th of September, 1785. 

The bourgeois of Saint-Omer, living nobly and on his own re- 
sources, having made the aforesaid deposition, estimated it at the 
price of three livres, and was re-conducted to the prison of the 
Chatelet.1 

^ " Marie- Antoinette et le proces du Collier," p. 109, et seq. 



THE END. 



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